Showing posts with label Jews. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jews. Show all posts

Saturday, March 15, 2008

“Medieval Islam: A Conflict between Reform and Revival”

I have recently participated in the 3rd Annual Rice University Medieval Studies Undergraduate Symposium. With a paper entitled:
"“Medieval Islam: A Conflict between Reform and Revival”"
http://hrctimeline.rice.edu/2008/Medieval-sym-08-flyer5.pdf

Wednesday, May 2, 2007

Divinity, Heroism, and Construction of Identity:


A comparative study of the Epic of Gilgamesh and the Book of Exodus
Mohammad Fuad AlJishi
Ian Assmann asserts that “the past is modeled, invented, reinvented, and reconstructed by the present.”[1] In this perspective, developing a distinctive cultural identity necessitates the emergence of a coherent narrative that can recount and assimilate the past in light of the present reality. These narratives employ culture-specific elements such as divinities, and heroic figures so as to develop a national common identity. The goal of these literary pieces, as Assmann mentioned, makes their composition process inherently selective, if not innovative, as historical accuracy becomes irrelevant. Indeed, the authors resort to emphasize the relationships between humanity and the divine realm.  In particular, because of their prominent and mysterious nature, the involvement of the gods accentuates the literary text and elevates its status. Moreover, the interaction between the gods and humans is heavily facilitated by the introduction of heroic figures. Deemed to be exemplars that represent certain values, the protagonists emerge to symbolize the civilization as a whole. Their distinctive status allows them to interact with the divine and gain “exclusive knowledge,” which symbolizes divine blessings over the entire nation. In addition, the narrative also addresses the situation in which the gods abandon that civilization. In other words, the narrative essentially promotes national consciousness by appreciating the presence of the divine.
In this context, the Epic of Gilgamesh and the Book of Exodus emerge as literary masterpieces that celebrate civilization through communication with the divine. Both Moses and Gilgamesh brought order and introduced traditions of governing human society by acquiring divine wisdom from the gods. Both protagonists are perceived as the founders of their corresponding civilization. In other words, the two classic works, each in its particular context, highlight selective and refined sequence of events, which articulate efforts to establish an identity. Through the introduction of heroic figures that communicate with the divine realm, the authors of the two literary texts incorporate narratives of the past to present an ideal model that confirms a common identity and commemorates their particular culture and civilization.
To begin with, a comprehensive analysis of the two ancient texts entails identifying the period of time as well as the audience to whom the texts were written to. Becoming familiar with the location and surroundings of the authors of the texts enhances our understanding of the didactic narratives and the particular values associated with each of them. The time at which each text was finally composed influences the choice of which themes to emphasize and which ones to undermine.  Particularly, in each case, certain percussive events, which take place during the life of the authors, trigger them to account for their present time by reflecting on the past. For instance, scholars agree that the Torah didn’t take its final shape until the sixth century BC, after the destruction of the first Temple in Jerusalem and the exile of the Israelites to Babylon[2]. At that period of time, the Jewish community perceived the event as a punishment from God for the abandonment of the Israelites to the true teachings of Moses, and their abuse of the privileges given to them by God. Such discomfort with human nature and power emerges consistently throughout the narrative, as the biblical author tries to diminish the role of human beings. Even more, the many explicit commandments to “remember the time of slavery and exodus out of Egypt”, seem more reasonable when discussed in light of the exilic period. In fact, the theme of remembering fits coherently with the aspiration of the Biblical redactors, which is to remind their community of their distinguished status and commitment to a god they have forsaken.
Similarly, the Epic of Gilgamesh also engages a theme of memory. Though not as explicit as in the bible, which commands people to remember specific events and make these events a point of reference, the Epic too constantly refers back to the event of the Deluge and the antediluvian era, as if that event functions as a point of reference. In contrast to the biblical redactors, the authors of the Epic of Gilgamesh seek to emphasize human potential and the vast possibilities which heroes and human beings can accomplish. This emphasis reflects the time at which the epic was redacted or the people who it was written to. Most probably, the Epic was redacted at a time of triumph and power. Indeed, as Thorkild Jacobsen corroborates, the most complete set of tablets, on which the current Epic is based upon, were written in Akkadian language at about 1600 B.C, during the rise of Babylonian hegemony over the whole of Mesopotamia[3]. This period constitutes a period of peace and stability, something which barely happens in Mesopotamia because of the constant presence of competing powers.  What’s more, this period also constitutes the height of Mesopotamian culture. The Old Babylonian power unified the region and absorbed different cultures and attempted to infuse them together. Also, that period of time corresponds to the emergence of the code of Hammurabi, the first legislative text in Mesopotamia. Moreover, the Epic of Gilgamesh encompasses a number of separate prominent folktales which circulated Mesopotamia[4]. In fact, Andrew George asserts that “the Old Babylonian texts bear witness to a wholesale revision of Gilgamesh material to form a connected story.”[5] By incorporating different ancient folktales into one single text, the authors of the epic of Gilgamesh attempts to unify Mesopotamian diverse civilization into a culture with a cohesive identity[6]. In fact, the epic protagonist, Gilgamesh, symbolizes such unity, as he represents universal kingship mandated by the gods. Even more so, the epic can be seen as a celebration of the achievements of Mesopotamian civilization during the Babylonian period. For instance, as Jacobsen indicates, the episode of the “coming of Enkidu” is absent from the Sumerian prototype of the epic[7].In fact, “the arrival of Enkidu” was probably included in the Babylonian version, because the new Empire wanted to contrast the advancement of Mesopotamian culture with that of the primitiveness of those outside of civilization, especially now that it’s united under one rule. In his journey to Uruk, Enkidu is said to have grown up and that “his understanding broadened” once he entered the Mesopotamian cultural sphere. In other words, the Epic of Gilgamesh can be viewed as a national epic that reflects Mesopotamian culture. The many detailed descriptions of specific events, occasions, and cultural customs such as orphan places, worship style, economic activity, reveal the implicit nationalistic nature of the text.
Similarly, the Exodus narrative becomes the central event in Jewish culture[8]. By attributing rituals and relating traditional practices to the Exodus sequence of events, Jewish culture defines Exodus as the point of reference which the civilization identifies itself by. In fact, the author of the Book of Exodus, even in the beginning of the event, commands the Israelites to “remember this day in which ye came out from Egypt.”[9] In addition, the redactors deliberately dedicated more than half of the Book of Exodus to legislative teachings that are specific to the Israelite community. Such emphasis enhances not only the collective identity of the people, but also the commitment of the people to the exodus narrative. In other words, unlike the people of Mesopotamia, the Israelites during the exilic period didn’t have any independent state that would implement a common identity among them. During that period, the only memory of a national identity stemmed from the legislative literature, especially of that mentioned in the Book of Exodus. Most importantly, the detailed descriptions of the Mt. Sinai covenant and the construction of the Tabernacle illustrate the selectivity of the biblical redactor in emphasizing codes of law rather than historical accounts. Such selectivity doesn’t only deemphasize the heroic character of Moses, but also sheds light on the redemptive aspects of the narrative, which again serve the redactor’s purposes[10]. In particular, although the calf crisis separates itself as one of the more significant events that would later shape the nature of the relationship between God and the His people, the focus in the Book of Exodus is more on the redemptive components; namely, the construction of the Tabernacle. What’s more, not only does the meticulous construction of the Tabernacle represent the collective struggle of the tribe of Israel to redeem itself from its great sin, but it also symbolizes the formation of an identity and, on top of all, the eventual construction of the kingdom of Israel. In this regard, the construction of the Tabernacle is analogous to Gilgamesh’s construction of the walls of Uruk. Akin to the Tabernacle, the walls of the Uruk represent the “redemption” of Gilgamesh from his defiance to the gods and his quest for immortality. Evidently, the process of construction of identity is central to both ancient texts.
Despite their divergence in the storyline, the two ancient texts serve similar objectives. Unlike the tribe of Israel, the story of Gilgamesh takes place in a civilized urban culture. Therefore, the construction of the walls contributes not only to the separation of the enclosed people from their outer counterparts but also to the preeminent attitude of the inhabitants of the city, which in this case symbolizes Mesopotamia as a whole. In addition, Gilgamesh is said to have restored the original walls of the city of Uruk, which have existed during the antediluvian period: he “who restored the cult centers destroyed by the Deluge, and set in place for the people the rites of the cosmos.”[11] In this case, and similar to the slavery narrative in Exodus, the Mesopotamian civilization defines itself by the event of the Deluge, which functions as the pivotal point of reference. As indicated in the Sumerian King List, Mesopotamian ideology entails the belief that “kinship was lowered from heaven.”[12] This tradition is claimed to have been consistently followed in periods both before and after the Deluge. Indeed, the Epic of Gilgamesh narrates that it was Gilgamesh himself who restored the walls to their “primordial foundations”, and thus re-established the relationship between humans and the gods. Actually, Gilgamesh’s action is a reminiscence of the original antediluvian model, which Mesopotamians believed to be the best approach to governing human society[13].
Furthermore, in each literary work, both Moses and Gilgamesh emerge as remarkable heroes who figuratively built the foundations of the identity of their corresponding society. By claiming the ancient existence of their identity, as in Gilgamesh, or by tracing its roots back in history, as in Exodus, each protagonist employs a chronological narrative in an effort to rationalize the emergent identity which they endeavor to establish. However, the two figures are portrayed differently. In contrast to the focus on the individual struggle in the Epic of Gilgamesh, the Exodus narrative puts a greater emphasis on the collective struggle of the people of Israel than on that of Moses. Such variations mirror the differences between the structures of each of the two cultures. Namely, the audience which the Epic of Gilgamesh is written for constitutes a far more diverse and less united people than that of the Book of Exodus. Emphasizing the people in a Mesopotamian epic would be very challenging given the complex diversity of the people. Thus, the author introduced a Mesopotamian hero to create a national culture and overlook such diversity. On the other hand, the biblical redactor had to emphasize the uniqueness of the people of Israel as a whole as it was the most evident methodology of enforcing a separate identity. The introduction of a hero was not as necessary for serving the didactic purposes in the Bible, as it was in the Epic of Gilgamesh. Still, the role of Moses is central to the Exodus narrative. Influenced by the events of his time, the biblical redactor consistently expresses his discomfort in human power. Specifically, due to Moses’ heroic qualities, the biblical redactor is cautious not consolidate the didactic values in the Exodus narrative to the character of a single human-being. Moreover, Moses heroic nature is manifested in his involvement with the introduction of monotheism, the liberation and the nationalization of his people, and the legislative literature which he introduced to his people. Moreover, similar to Gilgamesh, Moses too is deemed to represent his people as a whole. For example, the Golden calf incident takes place during Moses sudden absence.  Apparently, the absence of “Moses” dismantles a nation, as if Moses is the source for the strength of the community. What’s more, Moses’ outsider stance in the Bible can be seen to reflect the fate of the community that he is building.
In addition, both texts narrate the story of each protagonist as if heroism “occurs only after a long history of heroic misdemeanors.”[14]On one hand, events in Gilgamesh’s early life expose his tyrannical attributes, which are climaxed by the murder of the guardian of the cedar forest, Humbaba, and the Bull of Heaven. On the other hand, despite his later piety, Moses has a history of murder, too. In this case, the characters’ misbehavior is introduced to indicate the remarkable “personal growth” that each individual had to go through before achieving their heroic status. Again, the notion of personal growth figuratively represents the rather destined progress of a civilization as a whole. Besides, those negative incidents have had positive implications because they induced the characters to reflect on their actions, and thereby, the characters became more contemplative and wise. Despite the differences in the scheme of the narratives, the authors deliberately incorporate heroic elements to strengthen the instructiveness of each literary text.
Moreover, in addition to heroic leaders, such identity construction process requires narratives that contain elements of culture-specific divinities. Specifically, Gilgamesh re-appropriates the relationship of the gods with the people so that civilization can flourish once again, while Moses brings down laws and rules which the Israelites have to adhere with so that God can fulfill his covenant with them and enhance their prosperity and peaceful existence. In light of that, the introduction of heroic figures provides a medium through which humanity can communicate with the divine realm. In fact, one of the main features that distinguish the protagonists of each text is their reception of wisdom. In this regard, Andrew George asserts that “the wisdom [Gilgamesh] brought back from his journey was more than personal knowledge,” as it is said in the Epic that he “saw the Deep, the country’s foundation”[15].  In fact it was this profound, mysterious and divine knowledge which allows Gilgamesh to play “a key role in restoring the antediluvian order after the Flood, particularly in restoring the cults of the gods to their proper glory”:
 The rites of Sumer, forgotten there since distant days of old…
[After the] Deluge it was you made known all the tasks of the land.”[16]
Likewise, Moses greatness in Exodus is only due to his ability to converse with God: “And the lord spake unto Moses face to face, as a man speaketh unto his friend.”[17] In both texts, it seems that divinities “took a personal interest in the affairs” of men of prowess[18] (page xxxi). For example, Moses is the only man among the Israelites who is conversant in Egyptian culture since he was raised as an Egyptian. Similarly, in addition to being a son of a goddess and belonging to an elite class, Gilgamesh excels in defeating the strongest of all men. Such interest in men with great aptitude probably suggests that the divinities are concerned with the extent of the ambitions of these men. In fact, the Exodus narrative expresses the extreme discomfort of the God of Israel with any person, such as Pharaoh, or even objects that call for the attention of people. Taking that into consideration, the Exodus narrative enforces a definitive separation between the divine and the human race. Although such fundamental disconnection doesn’t exist in Mesopotamian religion, the Epic of Gilgamesh eventually establishes and demonstrates a distinction that resembles the one present in the Bible. In particular, at the end of his journey and before his return to the city of Uruk, Gilgamesh realizes “his place in the divinely ordained scheme of things.”[19] In fact the epic, the Epic’s conclusion denotes that Gilgamesh’s ultimate wisdom is due to his recognition of the true position of humans determined by the gods. More importantly, the two ancient texts express the profound, if not absolute, authority that divinities have over the identity and the survival of a civilization.
In particular, the notion that people’s actions must conform to the divinities’ desires to maintain harmony and peace constitutes the central theme of both literary works. Specifically, in the Epic of Gilgamesh, one of the major incidents that induced Gilgamesh to journey the land seeking immortality was the death of Enkidu, which was the result of his abuse of power and interference with the will of the gods by murdering the guardian of the cedar forests, who was assigned by the god Enlil. “A similar disregard for the divine powers characterizes the next episode, in which Gilgamesh repudiates the goddess Ishtar with gratuitous insults and then fights and kills the celestial bull she hopes will avenge her. The gods, driven to act by the repeated violation of their order, doom Enkidu to die young and without a family, in fulfillment of Humbaba’s dying curse”[20] On the other hand, the narrative in the first twelve chapters of the Book of Exodus surrounds the antagonist: Pharaoh. In this case, Pharaoh is depicted as an individual with great prowess who arrogantly rejects the god of Israel.  By triggering the fury of God, Pharaoh as well as his Egyptian civilization become under the threat of annihilation because of the great plagues that the god of Israel struck them with. Similarly, the creation and worship of the Israelites of the golden calf presents a betrayal of the covenant between the people and their god. As a result, the Israelites experience God’s wrath because of their disobedience.
Despite the above common characteristics, and reminiscent of the heroic representation, the nature of divinity reflects the identity of each text’s audience. Specifically, divinities constitute mirror images of the structure of each society. Since the two epics fulfill didactic purposes of identity formation, each of them makes every effort to achieve such goal. For instance, in the case of the Israelites, the easiest and most comprehensible technique to unite them is to bring them under one god. However, in the case of Gilgamesh, the inherent diverse nature of the Mesopotamian people forces the existence of many gods. Still, the different gods are considered to be connected to one another by levels of kinship, so as to present them as a coherent family. Particularly, each Mesopotamian city centers itself around a temple, which is dedicated to specific gods. In fact, at the end of the Epic, Gilgamesh substantiates the presence of the temples and the practice of rituals. In comparison, the Book of Exodus concludes with construction of the Tabernacle, which is placed in the center of the community. Symbolizing the dwelling of the god of Israel in the Tabernacle, the cloud, which had appeared repeatedly far from the community, settles now in the middle of the camp right on top of the Tabernacle, symbolizing God’s redemption and deliverance of the people[21].
Evidently, the texts set the first encounters between humans and the divine as points of reference. These encounters can be viewed as covenants between humanity and the divine so as to confirm the humbleness of man. Later that point of reference becomes an integral part of the developing identity of that particular civilization. The point of reference becomes a narrative that involves heroes, conflicts and, on top of all, divinities. What is claimed to be a present phenomenon is traced to the past, a past which is connected to the presence through a journey that is guided by divine providence. In particular, the two ancient texts reflect extensive divine involvement within human history and earthly life. In the Epic of Gilgamesh, most of the characters involved are either gods or demi-gods. Likewise, in the Book of Exodus, the claimed author of the bible is God and the central figures are also of sacred nature such as Moses and Aaron. Furthermore, based on Exodus narrative, the Israelites are able to build a nation. Additionally, based on Gilgamesh’s realization of the significance of the gods and how they’re ultimately two separate worlds, the antediluvian era is restored and civilization can flourish again. In essence, by writing down those stories, and producing idealized versions of history, they didn’t only determine or help shape the identity of their corresponding societies, but they also determined what their civilizations will be remembered by.
Works Cited
  1. Assmann, Ian. Moses the Egyptian: the Memory of Egypt in Western Monotheism. London: Harvard University Press, 1997.
  2. Collins, John J. Introduction to the Hebrew Bible. Minneapolis: Fortress Press.
  3. Jacobsen, Thorkild. The Treasures of Darkness London: Yale University Press, 1976.
  4. George, Andrew. The Epic of Gilgamesh: the Babylonian Epic Poem and other Texts in Akkadian and Sumerian. New York: Penguin Classics, 2003.
  5. Nahum M. Sarna, Exploring Exodus: the Origins of Biblical Israel.New York: Schocken Books.
  6. Texts from the Beginnings to the First Dynasty of Babylon, Historiographic Documents: The Sumerian King List. c. 2100 BC






[1]Ian Assmann, Moses the Egyptian: the Memory of Egypt in Western Monotheism. (London: Harvard University Press, 1997) 9.

[2]John J Collins, Introduction to the Hebrew Bible. (Minneapolis: Fortress Press) 13.
[3] Thorkild Jacobsen, The Treasures of Darkness (London: Yale University Press, 1976) 195.
[4] Thorkild Jacobsen, The Treasures of Darkness (London: Yale University Press, 1976) 210.
[5] Andrew George, The Epic of Gilgamesh: the Babylonian Epic Poem and other Texts in Akkadian and Sumerian. (New York: Penguin Classics, 2003) xxi.
[6]  Andrew George, The Epic of Gilgamesh: the Babylonian Epic Poem and other Texts in Akkadian and Sumerian. (New York: Penguin Classics, 2003) xvi-xvii.
[7] Thorkild Jacobsen, The Treasures of Darkness (London: Yale University Press, 1976) 214.
[8] Nahum M. Sarna,  Exploring Exodus: the Origins of Biblical Israel. (New York: Schocken Books) 3.
[9] The King James Holy Bible. (Philadelphia: National Publishing Company, 1978) Ex 13: 3.
[10] Nahum M. Sarna,  Exploring Exodus: the Origins of Biblical Israel. (New York: Schocken Books) 3.
[11] Andrew George, The Epic of Gilgamesh: the Babylonian Epic Poem and other Texts in Akkadian and Sumerian. (New York: Penguin Classics, 2003) xlviii.
[12] Texts from the Beginnings to the First Dynasty of Babylon, Historiographic Documents: The Sumerian King List. (c. 2100 BC)
[13] Andrew George, The Epic of Gilgamesh: the Babylonian Epic Poem and other Texts in Akkadian and Sumerian. (New York: Penguin Classics, 2003) xlix.
[14] Andrew George, The Epic of Gilgamesh: the Babylonian Epic Poem and other Texts in Akkadian and Sumerian. (New York: Penguin Classics, 2003) xlvi.
[15] Andrew George, The Epic of Gilgamesh: the Babylonian Epic Poem and other Texts in Akkadian and Sumerian. (New York: Penguin Classics, 2003) xlvi.
[16] Andrew George, The Epic of Gilgamesh: the Babylonian Epic Poem and other Texts in Akkadian and Sumerian. (New York: Penguin Classics, 2003) L.
[17] The King James Holy Bible. (Philadelphia: National Publishing Company, 1978) Ex 33:11.
[18] Andrew George, The Epic of Gilgamesh: the Babylonian Epic Poem and other Texts in Akkadian and Sumerian. (New York: Penguin Classics, 2003) xxxi.
[19] Andrew George, The Epic of Gilgamesh: the Babylonian Epic Poem and other Texts in Akkadian and Sumerian. (New York: Penguin Classics, 2003) xlvi.
[20] Andrew George, The Epic of Gilgamesh: the Babylonian Epic Poem and other Texts in Akkadian and Sumerian. (New York: Penguin Classics, 2003) xlvii.
[21] The King James Holy Bible. (Philadelphia: National Publishing Company, 1978) Ex 40:34-38.

Friday, February 9, 2007

Critical Review of R. M. Schwartz book "The Curse of Cain"

Though written by me, the below text doesn't reflect my personal opinion and belief, but should be perceived  only as a critical assessment of Regina M. Schwartz's book: 
The Curse of Cain: The Violent Legacy of Monotheism (1997), a study of identity and violence in the Hebrew Bible, which was nominated for a Pulitzer Prize.


Monotheism: a Paradoxical Path
Although it’s individuals who compose the larger society, it’s the memory of the society that stands to be most influential. In his book, Schwartz asserts that such a concept of “collective memory” along with our ancient biblical tradition have resulted in most our perceptions of the world. Certainly, the scriptualization of historic events affirms the role of cultural memory. Specifically, Schwartz argues that Biblical scriptures have had distinctive negative influences over our society which wouldn’t have taken place if those traditions didn’t emerge. Even though the writer makes use of ancient examples to further analyze the text and establish his point he fails to recognize that his argument includes all religions instead being exclusively targeting monotheistic traditions. Still, Schwartz intelligently underlines the features that characterize monotheism from other systems of belief.
To begin with, throughout the first part of his book, and by using certain examples, Schwartz asserts that violence in the name of religion has existed prior to the emergence of monotheism. However, the author ignores that fact, and throughout his biblical analysis he makes the claim that monotheism is inherently more violent than other religions. For example, after introducing the concept of the “other” and how it’s constructed in the Biblical tradition, Schwartz remarks that “if there were no identity shortage, if Israelites could be Egyptians too, for instance, there would be no need for aggressive or defensive gestures to protect their space” (p. 20). Actually, this indicates that identity formation or “nationalism” or even ethnocentrism have preceded the coming of monotheistic tradition. Again, a fact that Schwartz doesn’t emphasize. What’s more, Schwartz comments that the structural basis and details of the biblical covenant between God and the Israelites resembles that of most ancient near-eastern traditions. The concept of the “imbalance of power[s]”, as Schwartz puts it, was the driving force for any political ideology in the ancient near-east. For instance, the political scheme of Egypt was based on the disproportionate distribution of wealth and resources. In other words, the Egyptian Pharaoh had to control the allocation of resources in order to affirm his absolute power on the state. To legitimize such authority the Pharaohs had to employ an ideology that would facilitate his rule, to the Pharaohs, as to most politicians, religion is the key ideology that has a higher probability of a lasting and profound influence on masses.
Furthermore, even when Schwartz analyzes the concept of “God-given” identity of the Israelites, he fails to acknowledge that both the Sumerians kings and the Egyptian pharaohs asserted such claims. For example, in ancient Egyptian mythology, the pharaoh symbolized Egypt itself. The well-being of Egypt is assured by the safety and honor of the Egyptian pharaoh. What’s more, the pharaoh claimed that he himself functions as a mediator between this world and the heavenly gods. The mummy-cult in Egypt is due to the fact that Egyptian religion believed in the immortality of the pharaoh. Specifically, just as the identity of Egypt was in the Pharaoh, the identity of Israel in their God: “you’re my own people, my very own” (p. 18). Here, we see that the manner in which the God of Israel addresses and introduces himself in the Bible is similar to that of the Pharaoh to the people of Egypt. Both of them communicate and assert their identity on similar basis.
Moreover, it’s indeed true, especially in our current events, that monotheism, as Schwartz puts it, have “left a troubling legacy of the belief in land entitlement” (p. 42). However, Schwartz misses the fact that even though monotheism emphasized such a legacy, it didn’t create the concept itself. It’s not only the bible or monotheism which introduces to us the first model of nationalism. The construction of the other preceded the emergence of monotheism. Ancient civilizations, such as Egypt and Mesopotamia (the first on earth) have used religion in the same authoritative manner. Indeed, it’s very true that our modern perception of identity and nationalism ore our definitions of “who’s the ‘other’” is heavily influenced by Biblical traditions and content. However, that doesn’t mean that had monotheism didn’t emerge that our current perceptions would change dramatically. Certainly, our designation of self-identity and who’s the ‘other’ would be different. Yet, the concept of nationalism would still exist in one form or another.
In addition, the argument of the translatory nature of polytheism requires further examination. In this context, translatory means the ability to trace the same god, for example of fire or sun, among different religions, though named differently. The translatory gods are often manipulated by the rulers who enforced them to assure their particular sovereignty. Particularly, competing kings would associate their kingdoms with a particular set of Gods against the other set of gods which their enemy has identified with. Hence, isolating monotheism and confining the argument to it neglects historical reality. In fact, it’s not only monotheism that enforces identity and the construction of the other. It has been historically proven that, since the beginning of civilization, religion, in general, was initiated to enforce a common identity among its adherents that would differentiate them from others.
Although Schwartz’s argument over-emphasizes the role of monotheism in establishing hatred and violence, he still identifies the exclusive features that distinguish the monotheistic tradition from any other system of beliefs. In fact, Schwartz most successful argument is the “Universalism vs. Particularism”.  To explain, religion in general isn’t inherently violent. The existence of different gods or none, although can and have been abused throughout history, doesn’t implicitly suggest animosity or hatred. However, religion does become a breed of hatred when a god or a religious system defines itself upon the rejection of other gods and denies their very existence. Particularly, Schwartz argues that the first case represents a universal perspective that facilitates coexistence while maintaining individuality. Indeed, this is why he refers to polytheism as “cosmo-theism”. In fact, religious tolerance is rather feasible in the midst of the first case. On the other hand, the monotheistic traditions produce more violence, as Schwartz claims, because hostility to the "other” is fundamental to the construction of their identity. For example, Egypt is the defining entity on which the identity of Israel is built opposed to. In fact, the redactors of the bible have repeatedly employed the “normative inversion” narrative in composing the biblical literature, in which you remember what you oppose in order to remember yourself. Such usage of the “normative inversion” narrative is celebrated in the most critical theme of monotheistic literature. In the Ten Commandments Egypt appears again twice; once explicitly in the first and then implicitly in the second of the commandments.
In theory, Schwartz’s claims constitute a logical argument. Yet, historical preview of the pre-20th century proves that monotheistic age (represented by Judaism, Christianity, and Islam) is no more violent than the “Cosmo-theistic” age that preceded it, if not less violent. However, Schwartz “Universalism vs. Particularism”” argument applies most distinctively to our current reality. In no other previous times, have monotheism threatened the survival of humanity on earth than it does now. Conversely, polytheistic religious traditions have contributed negligible harm or hostility, if any, to the world. In this context, Schwartz’s exclusive attack on monotheism proves to be successful and most applicable to recent history.
In this context, the opposition of other gods or religions in monotheistic traditions entitles not only hostility but rather a feeling of being threatened. Because of such opposition, monotheism has always depicted its origins in the form of “escaping threats.” Here, the idea of a culture or a religion “set a part” from their environment, is heavily inspired by the storyline of the heroic figures of these religions. For example, all the leaders of monotheistic faiths, including Muhammad, Bahaullah, Jesus, Moses and even Abraham, are exemplars of the concept of a “man a part.” In other words, all these leaders posses a foreign element to the people who they’re leading and all of them are in the end rejected. The most prominent one of these is Moses. Although Moses is the hero and the establisher of Israel, he is constantly reminded by the fact that his wife in not an Israelite. In fact, Moses himself didn’t grow to be an Israelite; he was an Egyptian. Additionally, throughout the Torah Moses is heavily portrayed as constantly feeling threatened, and in the end he’s not even buried with his people. The fact that Moses’ grave was never known to the Israelites reflects the paradox of monotheism. In other words, Moses life-story constitutes nothing but a mirror image of Israel, and, thereby, monotheism. Specifically, the people of Israel were, just as Moses was, in constant threat from the surroundings which they oppose. In fact, Moses death as a stranger within his people can be reflected in the Israelite own fate: being strangers in their own land.
Additionally, Schwartz extends his argument and pursues a philosophical approach to elucidate the trouble with monotheistic traditions. He explains that our current concept of scarcity that is inherent at every level in our human societies originates with the emergence of the biblical tradition. The paradoxes of exodus, conquest, land and kinship all represent elements of the “insufficiency” of life. In particular, Schwartz argues that our perceptions of the world would be vastly different had we adopted a philosophy of “abundance” rather than “scarcity”.
In essence, modern society, even in secular terms, has been immensely inspired by biblical monotheism. In this manner, one must be careful to distinguish “monotheism” from “Abrahamic monotheism”.  Although most people are familiar with the latter only, monotheism has preceded the existence of Israel. Akhenaton, the Egyptian pharaoh who ruled about 1450 BCE, was the first to initiate and establish a monotheistic religion with only one god and its name was Aton: the god of light. Although Akhenaton started such tradition, his failure to properly employ a “normative inversion” allowed his religion to completely collapse after his death. Although he’s a historical figure, whose existence is substantiated by archaeological evidence unlike that of Moses, Akhenaton didn’t refute his one God against the other gods but he was rather “silent” about them. Conversely, Moses, a solely mythical figure, established himself as a heroic figure that persistently appears as a figure of memory. Such heroic nature is manifested in his involvement with the introduction of monotheism, the liberation and the nationalization of his people, and the legislative literature which he introduces to his people. Markedly, it’s in those three features that our current “secular” society perceives itself unconsciously. It’s in this context that Moses appears to be a truly influential mythical figure.

Wednesday, February 7, 2007

Nationalism and the Utilization of Religion



The three readings, which include Schwartz’s “Curse of Cain, Herzl’s “The Jewish State”, and Christian Karner’s article, tackle the issue of religiously related nationalism from various perspectives. By introducing the concept of a primordial nation or people, both Schwartz and Karner attempt to narrow the concept of nationalism and rather view it as an ideological view of history. In particular, Hindutva is the term that Karner uses in reference to Hindu-nationalism. Moreover, Hindu nationalism promotes the unity of the Indian subcontinent under the flag of Hinduism. By maintaining that India from its very origins is defined by the Hindu-religion, Hindu nationalists attempt to create an ancient historical back ground to their claims. In such cases, nationalism establishes its principles on a very particular and ideologically generated understanding of history.
Further, one tool in which an ideological foundation always proves to be influential is religion. Since the 19th century, nationalist movements have often times demonstrated such use of religion. Despite the fact that their incentive is usually a material need, such as land or resources, religion can inspire a great part of their ideology. In other words, even though nationalist movements begin secularly, as to satisfy a material need, primordial movements turn to religion because it seems to be more appealing, profound and influential. Superficially, Indian, Jewish and Arab nationalism illustrate the increasing interest of nationalist movements in employing a religious tone into their propaganda. First, by the end of the 19th century and the beginnings of the 20th Indians, Jews, and Arabs faced the challenge of developing a common identity in which they can define themselves with against another ethnic group. For the Arabs and Indians such questions didn’t come to existence until the decline of the colonial powers that controlled their regions. For the Arabs, the collapse of the Ottoman Empire resulted in a political vacuum. Although later ruled by foreign powers, namely France and Britain, it was under such political disruption that Arab nationalism came to existence. Similarly, Indian nationalist agenda came to rise under the severity of British colonialism. In fact, Indian nationalism evolved over a period of more than 50 years, during which the Indian sub continent was trying fiercely to resist British occupation. Likewise, a similar analysis can be traced upon Jewish nationalist movements.
Moreover, all of those three ethnicities faced a common question which they struggled to address. Namely, “Who is a Hindu”, “What does it mean to be an Arab”, “what makes me Jewish”. Such questions were proposed because of the inherent nature of nationalism calls for addressing them. In other words, Defining Indian-ness and setting exclusive boundaries to such a concept wouldn’t merely narrow the model but it would deepen its influence over the masses. On the other hand, such questions are, as in the case with the Jews and Arabs, are imposed rather than been sought after. Specifically, as Herzl’s mentions in his article, the common characteristics among the Jewish people, who were in Diaspora at that time, were rather imposed on them than being chosen to be shared. He says that “We are one people; our enemies have made us one without our consent.” Such analysis can also be traced back to the creation of Arab, and particularly, Palestinian identity. In particular, the Palestinian people didn’t recognize themselves as one people until the collective memory, which all Palestinians now share, of the “Nakba,” the Palestinian exodus took place.
Furthermore, in the cases of Indians, Jews, and Arabs, it’s this concept of a glorious past that had been shredded away by foreign imperialist ambitions that founds the identity of each people respectively. The Exodus, both in the Jewish and Palestinian literature functions an emotionally strong symbol of unity under oppression. Because of the lingering struggle that a people have to undergo to liberate themselves from oppression, nationalist movements realize that a more profound ideology is needed to function as a stronger incentive for the masses. After realizing the ineffectiveness of their secular ideology, they become more prone to use religion as part of their vision. In this context, religious literature provides a movement with a stronger authority over the people. In other words, religiously-motivated nationalist propaganda deeply attracts believers and appeals to their own religious commitments. Often times they seek religion as the last tool in which they can attain liberty and justice. For example, it wasn’t until the complete failure of secular pan-Arabism movements that Islamism overtook such popularity in the Arab World. Moreover, as with most nationalist propaganda, religious nationalism generates an ideologically driven historical narrative that includes an ideal model of the past coupled with strong loss and disintegration.

Monday, May 8, 2006

Medieval Islam: a Conflict between Reform and Revival

Islamic Renaissance and the Failure of a Reformation:
a Wrangle Between Philosophy and Religion
 Since the 1980’s, politics within the Muslim world have played a major role in developing debates over the compatibility of Islam within the modern world. Recently, the tragic events of 9/11 drew a greater attention to examining Islamic ideology, and sparked a controversy on the need for an Islamic Reformation. In light of that, Western scholars, and some Muslim intellectuals emphasized the urgent need for a comprehensive restructuring of Islam. Alternatively, religious thinkers opposed such propositions claiming their insincerity and their inherent secular and Western character. Others argue that the concept of a reformation is not alien to Islamic history. They claim that Muslims have recognized and appreciated the concept of reformation long before the Christians did. In reference to such a viewpoint, scholars questioned the triumph of such efforts and asserted their failure. Through a historical examination of Islam, scholars observed that medieval Islamic culture encompassed a discourse on the philosophy of religion. Moreover, they confirm that such a discourse articulated hopes for a Reformation. Though, they attribute the failure of that Reformation to the hypocrisy of political and religious leaders.
In the beginning, to understand the concept of Reformation, one must consider the foundations of the European Reformation. First, throughout the early medieval centuries, Europe sunk into a period of darkness and ignorance. At that time the only central authority that united most of Europe was the Papacy of the Catholic Church at the Vatican. This absence of nation-states ended when various royalties took control over different regions of Europe. Gradually, conflicts within the different states and the central church weakened the absolute authority of the Church.  This decline in the influence of the Catholic Church triggered the European Renaissance.
Furthermore, Renaissance, as defined by Margoliouth, is the “recovery of classical art (from antiquity), literature and science, which during the Dark and the earlier Middle Ages had been neglected” (p. I)[1]. During this period, great intellectual achievements have taken place throughout Italy as a result of the scientific revival of ancient Roman and Greek science. The discovery of the works of Galen’s on anatomy and Ptolemy on Geography gave the birth of new scientific revelations. Leaders of the scientific Renaissance include Galileo and Da Vinci, whose works formed the basis of modern Science. Moreover, al-Khowarismy work on Algebra, which reached Europe through the crusades, also had a great influence on the development of mathematics. In addition, the interactions with the Muslims through the conquest of Spain introduced translations of classical Greek philosophy to Europe. The Muslim scholar Ibn-Rushed, known as Averroës in the west, was the leader of the movement that developed Aristotle’s scholasticism. This humanistic revival shifted Latin literature to a new phase.
This new thriving culture emphasized critical thinking and encouraged skepticism. As a result, new interpretations of the bible and religious traditions initiated a spiritual-awakening. This free-thinking approach allowed thinkers to voice their concerns over the Church’s repressions. Additionally, political tensions between the Catholic Papacy and the various European states contributed to greater widespread criticism. Initiated by a few unorganized theologians, such as Martin Luther, a Revolution against the Church began. With the aid of religious philosophers, political leaders from Germany and England established the Reformation[2].
Accordingly, the Reformation stemmed from long periods of struggle and a series of intellectual revival, which the Christian World had to undergo to reach such a theological and political reform.  On the other hand, the existence of many revolutionary campaigns in the Muslim world makes it hard to agree on a specific period of Reformation or even to define the nature of such a reformation.  This complex and dynamic nature of political medieval Islam differentiated it from Christianity and, as a result, the nature of an Islamic Reformation would differ from its Christian counterpart. Further, Roberson explains that “Islam, as a religion, was able, through the behavior of its believer, to continually remain cognizant of the social, economic and political condition of the time it was passing through. It was like the passage of a long series of intermittent ‘mini-reformations’, all the while the basic structure of the religion was maintained including the law, rather than the experience of one great all-mighty reformation as in Europe”[3]. Here a distinction must be made between the Protestant Reformation in Europe and the Reformation within the context of Islam. First, unlike the Catholic Church in Renaissance Europe, the Muslim World lacked a central religious authority. Secondly, the continuous refusal of the Muslim community to create “further split” in it eliminates the many difficulties that the leaders of the Protestant Reformation had to face to separate from Catholicism[4].
In the context of this paper, an Islamic Reformation corresponds to constructing an inclusive humanistic approach to theology which allows intellectual criticism and, yet maintains the central structure of Islam. In other words, a Reformation must result in a comprehensive and flexible system that preserves the continual development of the economic, intellectual, social and political status of the Muslim community and the human civilization. However, there is a current debate over the concept of an Islamic Reformation. In a private meeting Mrs. Sherine Ebadi, the first Muslim women to win a Nobel Prize, expressed to me that she would rather call it an “Islamic Revival.” Her fear emerges from the fact that the term “Reformation” provokes a greater controversy and hinders the renewal of Islam, since the term is always associated with the split of Christianity. Nevertheless, the term “Islamic revival” has recently turned to a cliché that is used by various movements that extensively differ in their objective. As we will see later, Revivalism has been associated sometimes with groups that challenged efforts of Reform. Still, we can define Revivalism as movements that claim to represent the return to the ‘true and original form of Islam.’
Looking back at the roots of the Christian Reformation, we saw that the revolution was based on the intellectual prosperity of the Renaissance. Thus, to study the history of Reform in Islam we first have to examine the Islamic Renaissance.  In the context of Islamic History, Renaissance refers to the philosophers, scientists and theologians whom works have contributed profoundly to the emergence of the European Renaissance. This implies that Renaissance in the Muslim world have started earlier than that of Europe’s. Antony Black confirms: “the east was intellectually superior to the West in jurisprudence, mathematics, medicine, astronomy, and philosophy until around 1200. Early Islam was more open that pre-twelfth century Christendom to foreign and ancient ideas.”[5] The Muslims didn’t only translate Greek science and philosophy. However, they also developed it. Ibn-Sina’s, known as Avicenna in the Latin world, works on anatomy and medicine rivaled that of Hippocrates and Galen. Similarly, commentaries of Al-Faraby on Aristotle’s theories added an additional perspective to early Renaissance Italy. However, the most influential Muslim thinker was Ibn-Rushed, whose significance was even celebrated by Raphael’s famous ‘School of Athens’ painting.
To begin with, Al-Faraby is known to be the first influential philosopher of the Golden Age of Islam. As with most other Muslim philosophers, Faraby seeked education by himself; “he didn’t belong to the court, bureaucracy or any literary group”[6]. However, Greek philosophy was introduced to him through a Christian teacher of the Alexandrian school. Faraby’s revolutionary concept of the philosophical nature of Prophecy and religion meant that philosophy itself is of divine nature. While such thoughts heavily conflicted with the Sunni school of thought, Shiites “enthusiastically adopted al-Faraby’s political ideas”.  Faraby saw that “religion is an imitation of philosophy.” Moreover, because “philosophy demonstrates what religion symbolizes”, “Philosophy is ‘true education’ and the way to Salvation” [7]. In the later part of his life he wrote his most distinguished books that constituted the development of Aristotle’s work. His book, the Virtuous City, represented his detailed vision of the ideal Caliphate. Additionally, he used Plato’s work to form the basic attributes of a Caliph[8].
In Plato’s perspective, knowledge was the essential qualifier for leadership. Such view corresponded to that of the Shiites. Both Shiites and the Faraby believed that the propagation of knowledge and virtue, which is necessary to the development of the human civilization, required not only political regulations but a virtuous leadership. This “affinity between Philosophy and Shi’ism” triggered the Shiite Hamdanids Caliphate to invite al-Faraby to Aleppo. The construction of the Houses of Wisdom in Mosul, Aleppo and Tripoli shows the Shiite appreciation of Greek philosophy. Another reason for al-Faraby’s abandonment of Baghdad, which was the central intellectual city of his time, is the increasing popularity of Hanbali Sunnism.
In this regard, Ahmed Ibn-Hanbal was a theologian that initiated a movement that denied the option of innovations in dealing with religion. Unlike al-Faraby, Ibn Hanbal believed that it’s the religious duty of the people to comply with their leader regardless of his actions with the exception of apostasy and the absence of communal prayer[9]. In addition, he denigrated every form of rational speculation. His literary movement came from his rejection of the rational approach of reading the Quran. This conflict between traditional Islam and philosophy developed in the Abbasid Caliphate with the accession of al-Ma’mun. Al-Ma’mun was interested in Greek philosophy. Therefore, he attracted Shiites and Mu’tazilites, who opposed literalism. At his time, Baghdad, especially with his construction of the House of Wisdom, became the center of intellectual discourse. This approach cultivated philosophers such as Faraby and Avicenna, and equated their academic status to that of religious scholars. Alternatively, to illustrate his tolerant policies and theory of Deputyship, Ma’mun deliberately designated the Shiite eighth Imam, Ali Al-Ridha, as his successor, and retained Mu’tazilte thinkers in authoritative positions.
This spread of philosophy and Shiite teachings triggered Ibn-Hanbal to publicly expose his distaste to philosophers. He taught that philosophers blind individuals from recognizing the truth, and in this manner, they deviate people from the ‘true Islam.’ “To call a man a philosopher was still to brand him as a heretic or infidel”[10] Moreover, the fierce dispute between philosophers and Hannibal’s Sunni beliefs emerged when Ibn-Hanbal “took to the streets proclaiming that it was the duty of the Deputy to command t good and forbid the evil, that is, to enforce the Shari’a in public life”. In one way or another, this implied that Al-Ma’mun wasn’t fulfilling his duty as a Caliph. Expectedly, Al-Ma’mun responded with imprisoning Hanbal. Al-Ma’mun’s action depicts the only occasion in the entire history of Islam in which a Caliph chooses rationalism prior to religion. In this regard, one can come to see some resemblance between Philip, the Magnanimous of Renaissance Germany, and al-Ma’mun. Both championed innovative religious notions and condoned liturgical attitudes toward religion. Additionally, Al-Ma’mun’s theory of deputyship also resembled that of the small republics that existed in Italian Renaissance. In this manner, Al-Ma’mun “adopted a cultural policy that was designed to boost high culture and the intellectual standing of the Caliphate”[11].Thus, to Islamic Renaissance, al-Ma’mun was the founder. His initiative of institutionalizing philosophy as well as his interest to a multiethnic and religiously variant society corresponded to the only possible Reformation in Islam. For the first time in any Caliphate, and perhaps the only time, Al-Ma’mun, as a leader, demonstrated that “the ruler must be loved by his people and combine clemency with severity”[12].  Indeed, with severity he dealt with literalism and compassion with those who were tolerant.
As a result of the thriving intellectual culture in Baghdad, Avicenna came to being. Avicenna believed not only that philosophy can be superior to religion, but that it can interact with the human’s active intuition, which he claimed to emanate from God. In other words, Avicenna meant that regular humans can, through mysticism along with philosophy, exceed limits and possibly achieve Prophecy.  Challenges to Sunnism continued with al-Razi’s skeptics in concepts such as Revelation and Prophecy. He defied his Sunni background when “he called Socrates ‘the Imam’”, arguing that if intellectual enlightenment is sufficient to prove the existence of God, then “Prophecy and revelation are unnecessary; indeed they are harmful because they retard knowledge and cause wars”[13].
In comparison, and in the endorsement of the traditional Sunni school of literalism, Ibn Hazm composed a love story in which he tried to establish that “plain language” is the only way one in which one can understand the sacred texts.[14] Thus, Quran can only have an apparent meaning; allegorical approaches to the Quran used by Sunni philosophers were deemed unacceptable. Because of his scholar standing and his position as the Ummayed’s Vizier, Ibn Hazm thoughts on philosophy gave some legitimacy to the Ummayed’s rule in Spain. As we will see, the end of the Ummayed’s rule corresponded also to the beginning of rational thinking in Muslim Spain and the emergence of thinkers such as Ibn Tufail and Ibn Rushed.
During that period of time, particularly in the center of the Muslim World, Sunnism school of thought still didn’t prevail against the campaign of philosophy. It only became well established when AlGhazaly, around the 11th century, wrote his famous book, Destructio Philosopherum , condemning the works of Faraby and Avicenna. Al-Gahzaly got the public’s approval because he relied on his personal experience. His arguments were based upon his conversations with philosophers, Shiites, and Sufis. In addition, his book, Revival, also was revolutionary, since it’s the first time that a theologian truly criticizes the ‘Ulama in their tactics within the political authorities, which focus on the establishment of the traditional Sunni school instead on the correct implementation of Shari’a. What’s more, Ghazaly also accepted Sufi thoughts and indeed embraced them in the latter part of his life. Further, he developed the predominantly rigid nature of Sunnism to a school of thought that encourages science and mathematics[15].  This increasing flexibility of Sunnism, together with his denunciation of philosophy, distinguished Al-Ghazaly and compared his influence on mainstream Islam to that of Thomas Aquinas in Catholicism. [16] Both theologians persisted that religion and science, are in fact, related.
On the other side of the Muslim world, the fall of the Almoravids dynasty in Muslim Spain, which included the decline of the restrictive Sunni atmosphere, as well as the rise of the intellectually vibrant environment of Almohads’ Cordova promoted Averroës’ interest in exploring science and philosophy beside Islamic Jurisprudence. His natural interest in medicine gave birth to his medical encyclopedia, the Colliget. His companionship with Ibn-Tufail, a philosopher who he shared interest in medicine with, launched him to embark upon the study of philosophy. The open-minded theology of Almohads allowed him to further develop his thoughts without the usual Sunni restrictions.[17] In Europe, he was considered as the true interpreter of Aristotle. However, some Christian theologians such as Albertus Magnus, the teacher of Thomas Aquinas, deemed him “godless and the enemy of Christ.” [18] Again, this relates to the resemblance of Thomas Aquinas and Al-Ghazaly. Indeed, both of them, though advocates of science, viewed Averroes’ pure philosophy as contradictory to the nature of religion. In defense of philosophy, Averroes wrote a detailed refutation, called the Incoherence of the Incoherence, to Al-Ghazaly’s degradation of Philosophy.
More than any other thinkers of his time, Averroes applied and traced his work on Plato’s politics through Islamic history. This indicated that he, unlike Faraby’s ideal vision, tried to relate Greek politics into Muslim political history in an attempt to establish a future change. His unparalleled, both in Europe and the Muslim world, feminist observations in which he attributed economic regression to the subordination of women in society, provoked religious leaders to publicly condemn him. Black explains, “Supporters of Sunni Legalism saw a clear contradiction between religion and philosophy, and they were now suppressing the practice of philosophy and persecuting philosophers, including Ibn Rushed himself”[19].  Markedly, Ibn Rushed was beyond comparison to all of Islamic thinkers. His Sunni status and his revolutionary ideas distinguish him as the supreme Islamic thinker. Being a Sunni at that time implied a certain ideology that Ibn-Rushed clearly transcended while still adhering to Sunnism. Those reasons illustrate the similarities of Ibn-Rushed and Martin Luther. This suggests the possibility of Reformation if Ibn-Rushed were tolerated.
On the other hand, the Shiite school of thought believed that philosophy and implicit understanding are the keys to the sincere interpretations of theology. Thus, the pursuit for a philosophical Islam didn’t die out with Ibn-Rushd’s sad end. In fact, Shiite theology encouraged the use of philosophy, mathematics, astronomy and science in interpreting the sacred texts. Al-Tusi exemplified that approach and developed. Tusi was born in the far eastern end of the Muslim Empire. Although he was the only thinker of his time, Tusi’s influence exceeded the boundaries of his Shiite beliefs. First, as a Shiite theologian, unlike his Sunni cotemporaries, Tusi held that Shari’a isn’t absolute, and that interpretations by the experts, who he called Mujtahids, are within the scope of the divine laws. Further, the concept of Ijtihad, which is done by the Mujtahids, “gave the Shiite legal system flexibility and dynamism; it enabled new question to be take seriously. Above all, it elevated Reason.”[20] This individual reasoning resembles democracy, as it enables dialogue over theology within the Shiite sect, let alone with other Muslim schools of thought. Secondly, his political theories also embraced an unparalleled democratic thinking within the Islamic Renaissance. Tusi proposed a political theory of love through which he “saw the rule by the people as part of virtuous government”.[21] He believed that “the love of good men for one another” blends and connects different societies into one civilization. Antony says that “this was the kind of view of human nature that one would find two centuries later in Italian Renaissance thinkers”[22] Critics believed that “Tusi transmitted elements of classical Islamic political philosophy to the early modern world”[23]. However, a simultaneous but different movement evolved in the center of the Muslim World after Tusi’s death.
Just as Hanbalism opposed Faraby and Avicenna in the beginning of the Renaissance, Ibn Taymia’s applied his dogma in opposition to al-Tusi’s and, thereby ending the Renaissance. Though he was less literal than Ibn-Hanbal, Ibn-Taymia propagated his teachings by refuting other schools of thoughts. He engaged in regular disputation with Shiite leaders. Those controversies influenced his promotion of a Sunni form of Ijtihad. However, his Ijtihad opposed any innovations. He viewed innovations as the path of deviation to the ‘errant’ beliefs of Suffism and Christianity[24]. On the political scope, Ibn-Taymia enforced Ibn-Hanbal’s theory of the religious political leader. In fact, he loathed the abstention of religious participation in political authorities. “Ibn Taymia was particularly insistent that religion cannot be practiced without state power” [25]. In fact, Ibn-Taymia was the first thinker to portray former Islamic Caliphs as exemplary political rulers. His “special admiration for the first four Deputies, and also for the Seljuks, Nur al-Din and Salah al-Din and the Mamluk Sultans,”[26] formed the basis of the modern historical view of early Islam. In this regard, Ibn-Taymia disapproved the discussion of the disputes that occurred within the early politics of Islam. Namely, he prohibited arguments over the Sahaba, or prophet’s companions; questioning the Sahaba, a Shiite practice, meant deviation from Sunnism. Thus, Ibn-Taymia was very successful in his attempts of establishing his model of religious reform. Above all, his main objective was to integrate religion in every political aspect. His ideal model of the Sahaba and the Salaf, who are early Islam’s true followers, and his proposition of Ijtihad, came to balance one another in religious-legal practice. Eventually, the beginnings of the 14th century marked the end of the age of Renaissance within the history of mainstream Islam. In particular, the last original thinkers, Tusi, as a philosopher, and Ibn Taymia, as a religious scholar, concluded the golden age of Islam.
At the end of such a review of the complex movements during Renaissance Islam, one wonders what would have been the implications if Ibn-Rushd’s thoughts were tolerated within the Muslim community. Would it influence them as it did to their counter Christians? Although Muslim philosophers were more successful in relating Greek philosophy to Islam, than the Europeans did to Christianity, the absence of philosophical institutions which increase communication among the intellectual community made Islamic Renaissance less coherent than that of Europe. Intellectual institutions were usually built to solely encompass religious scholars whom, as usual, rejected philosophical approaches to the sacred text. Blank asserts that “most philosophers were self-educated.”[27] We probably can speculate that similar changes to that of Europe would have taken place only with the tolerance and institutionalization of Philosophy. The ruling government plays a pivotal role in determining those two circumstances.
Ironically, the absence of a single, central and tyrannical power, such as the Papacy in Europe, perhaps, made the Muslims overlook the idea of Reformation.[28] Islamic leaders didn’t take up extensive power similar to that of the Catholic Church until the end of Renaissance. Then, influenced mainly by Ibn-Taymia, all post-Renaissance dynasties, both Shiite and Sunni, became manipulated by religious authorities. Antony Blank illustrates that “Orthodox-minded ‘Ulama could charge anyone who showed independence of mind, especially if they criticized the ‘Ulama themselves, with heresy and unbelief. In such cases, the Sultan, if he were to maintain his status as religious leader, had to be seen to act. Sufis were persecuted from time to time and any one who expressed doubts about the Quran.” Even more, “1n 1580, an observatory as modern as any in Europe was destroyed, just three years after being built.”[29] Evidently, Ibn-Taymia’s spreading ideology ensured the failure of any kind of Reformation. Sultanates’ need for religion to justify their legitimacy made it difficult for the ruler to exclude religious authorities from the political realm. As a result, any scientific or intellectual development, such as the construction of institutions or the funding of research, was based on the degree of tolerance that Religious authorities rule with.
 Although not nearly as sever as the politics that followed it, Renaissance politics also abused the function of religion to justify their rule. In our former review of Renaissance leaders, we discussed three main revivalist movements: Ibn-Hanbal, Al-Ghazaly, and Ibn-Taymia. We previously saw, that Ibn-Taymia’s post-Renaissance political influence surpassed that of any other Renaissance philosophers or religious academics. Nonetheless, the other two thinkers generated critical political changes during the Renaissance.
First, Hanbalism, as the first enemy of philosophy, played an important role in developing the thoughts of the other two movements that followed it. To philosophers, the Sunni movement represented incoherence and contradictions. Moreover, Hanbalis claimed that human intellect cannot justify everything in the world, and, in fact, is not supposed to. Most of the time they would say “ask not how”[30]. Their belief that Shari’a’ law is the divine law that guides human behavior, implied that “To be moral one virtually must be Muslim”[31]. This theory shattered the unity of the Muslim community because it made Islam exclusive to a school of thought and alienated non-Muslims from the rest of the Muslim community. After all, “within the Caliphate itself were many people who had not embraced Islam, for instance Christians, Jews, atheists, Mazdaans, idolaters, Buddhists, Gnostics, and son.”[32]Conversely, philosophers believed that religious differences among a community rather promote discussion and mutual gain of knowledge. In contrast to philosophy, Ibn Hanbal’s approach to leadership made Sunnism a perfect religious system that can maintain its structure through the dynamic nature of Muslim politics. The Suljks exploited such ideology, especially in dealing with their Shiite enemy, the Buyids dynasty.  With the accession of the Al-Qadir, the first Seljuk Caliph, execution of non-Sunnis such as Mu’tazilites and Shiites became the essential tool to end theological and philosophical disputations. Sourdel comments on the reference of Suljks to themselves as the ‘champions of Sunnism’, “No one can tell how sincere their Sunnism was, but what is important is that they could not claim to dominate such a vast empire without taking up a stance on religious questions.”[33]
Secondly, al-Ghazaly represented a more moderate, and different approach to traditional Sunnism that is far from literalism. In fact, al-Ghazaly accommodated science and increased the capacity of developing the Shari’a within Sunnism. Since he lived in a Shiite dominant Egypt under the Fatimid rule, it was hard for him to share his teachings with the public. However, his renewal to Sunni thinking and his strong arguments against philosophy captured the attention of several political authorities outside of Egypt. Particularly, al-Ghazaly paved the roads to the accession of the Ayyubid dynasty in Egypt. “The Ayyubids were devoted advocates of political Sunnism, and collaborated with the ‘Ulama.”[34] In fact, Saladin, who is the founder of this dynasty, was proclaimed as “the restorer of Sunnism in Egypt”[35]. He radically eradicated Shiites and their philosophy in the fear of threats to his new empire.  In this regard, Sourdel argues that it was only until he established his Muslim Empire that Saladin thought of recapturing Jerusalem. Sourdel also confirms that Saladin had to engage in a counter-crusade due to the fact that his denial to the religious leaders’ demands for the restoration of Jerusalem would threaten the legitimacy of his kingdom[36].  
Clearly, each of the three thinkers had a distinct approach to the character and nature of the Islamic Law, which depended on his current environment. This demonstrated Islam’s capability of diverse interpretations even in the most traditional Sunni school. Such tolerance can also differentiate it from medieval Christian Catholicism. In the case of Islam, one can generalize that Muslims during the Renaissance didn’t experience radical narrow-minded manipulations of religion, as the Christians did in Europe. Hence, they believed that neither Muslims nor Islam needed a reconstruction.
Again, ruling kingdoms exploited the people’s faith in the integrity of Islam, and have always sought to contain knowledge and setup limits to intellectual upbringing. Unlike religious authorities, their motives were insincere and far from any concerns with preserving religious authenticity. Incidentally, in an interview on U.C. Berkeley’s TV channel, Tariqh Ali, editor of the New Left Review, said “I really do not believe that they want citizens in this world to think. They don't want that. They want a population which is more or less servile, which listens to them, accepts all they say, a population which is obsessed with consumerism and fornication, and carries on doing that. That they don't mind at all. That's fine. But anything beyond that which challenges them, they more or less stopped.”[37]
In addition, some ruling dynasties in the Renaissance made extensive efforts to establish intellectual institutions. However, their intentions weren’t genuine. For example, funding institutions and promotion of learning were at the heart of the Shiite Fatimid rule. In fact, the first university in the Muslim world was built by them. Through the endorsement to learning, Shiite Fatimids found a diplomatic strategy that stabilizes their rule over the predominantly Sunni Egyptians. Unlike the Seljuks, Fatimids intelligently used the propagation of their teachings in converting Egypt to Shiite majority. Tariqh Ali confirms this in his analogy of such intellectual manipulation to the recent collapse in the media. He says “Channel 4, which was set up in 1982 to be an innovative, critical television channel (it was set up by Parliament) -- by the middle to end of the nineties had collapsed. A lot of experimental, very good work was done, but then it came to an end and it's almost as if one can trace this end to the collapse of the communist enemy; that with the ending of that, it's almost as if the rulers of this world, the dominant capitalist world, decided, ‘We don't need to educate our citizens so much. We have nothing to be worried about. If you educate them too much, give them too many opportunities, make them too vigilant and alert, they might actually turn on us.’ I'm not saying this is how they thought it concretely, but certainly that's how it seemed to one, that that's what they were trying to do. The dumbing-down seemed sudden, that one day the networks were actually quite intelligent, and then six months later everything had disappeared.”[38] Surprisingly, the dynamic tool that served political changes in the medieval ages (i.e. heresy), is still used, and serves similar purposes.
Evidently, a true Reformation is one that develops within ethical politics. In other words, regardless of their differences, all Renaissance philosophically-based political theories were based on the notion of the supremacy of knowledge and virtue. Clearly, their theories only serve as ideal paradigms that, in reality, cannot be fully applied. Whether now, or in the medieval ages, politics have always lacked virtue. Apparently, philosophers themselves realized the practical failure of their idealist theories which is a clear answer to why they avoided any actual discussion of the politics of their time. Yet, adopting a philosophical outlook on religion carries with it a persistent hope for a virtuous civilization.
In view of that, I believe that if Ibn-Rushed and Al-Ma’mun coexisted, just like the case with Philip and Luther, then mainstream Islam of today would be certainly different than it is now. Our examination to the Renaissance period shows that the concept of an Islamic Reformation is rooted within the history of Islam. It’s neither a product of modernism, nor Westernization. In addition, it became evident that an Islamic Reformation shouldn’t necessarily result in secularism. In fact, rational reasoning and religion, as Faraby argued, are one entity. However, what hinders a Reformation is the abuse of censorship. In reference to our former discussion, we saw that censorship was misused by both politicians and theologians because it limited intellectual discourse. The former used censorship to guarantee authority and the latter used it out of ignorance. In addition, one must be careful not confuse Reformation with modernist movements. While Reformation can correspond to certain religiosity, modernism entails secularism, and therefore is more anti-religious. Again, the currently increasing popularity of an Islamic Reformation is the excessive censorship that religious authorities and governments impose on the people. The frustration and anger of Muslims all over the world expresses how they are fed up with religious deceit and government fabrication. This growing dissatisfaction might one day develop into a Reformation. Incidentally, Reformation within Christianity didn’t occur until the 16th century, meaning 1600 years after its birth. Interestingly enough, the Muslims have just celebrated the 1427th anniversary of the establishment of their religion. Based on this and the Muslims’ increasing frustration, one can predict that Islam is on the verge of a new age: the age of Reformation.





[1] Mez, Adam. The Renaissance of Islam. New York: AMS Press Inc, 1975. Page I
[2] “Renaissance.” In: Wikipedia: The Free Encyclopedia. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Renaissance
[3] Roberson, B. A., The Shaping of the Current Islamic Reformation, Portland, Oregon: Frank Cass Publishers USA, 2003. Page 5.
[4] Safi, Omid. Encyclopedia of Religion, Modernism: Islamic Modernism. Detroit: Macmillan Reference USA, 2005, under the subtopic of “An Islamic Reformation?”
[5] Antony Blank, The History of Islamic Political Thought. New York: Routledge Publishers USA, 2001. Page 57.
[6] [6] Antony Blank, The History of Islamic Political Thought. New York: Routledge Publishers USA, 2001. Page 61
[7] Antony Blank, The History of Islamic Political Thought. New York: Routledge Publishers USA, 2001. page 63.
[8] Antony Blank, The History of Islamic Political Thought. New York: Routledge Publishers USA, 2001. page 63.
[9] Antony Blank, The History of Islamic Political Thought. New York: Routledge Publishers USA, 2001. page 37.
[10] Patricia Crone, Medieval Islamic Political Thought. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press Ltd UK, 2004. Page168.
[11] Antony Blank, The History of Islamic Political Thought. New York: Routledge Publishers USA, 2001. page 26
[12] Antony Blank, The History of Islamic Political Thought. New York: Routledge Publishers USA, 2001. page 27
[13] Antony Blank, The History of Islamic Political Thought. New York: Routledge Publishers USA, 2001. page 63.
[14] Antony Blank, The History of Islamic Political Thought. New York: Routledge Publishers USA, 2001. page 83
[15] Franco Cardini, Europe and Islam. Malden, Massachusetts: Blackwell Publishers Ltd USA, 2001. Page 92
[16] Antony Blank, The History of Islamic Political Thought. New York: Routledge Publishers USA, 2001. page 106
[17] Antony Blank, The History of Islamic Political Thought. New York: Routledge Publishers USA, 2001. page 117
[18] Franco Cardini, Europe and Islam. Malden, Massachusetts: Blackwell Publishers Ltd USA, 2001. Page 92
[19] Antony Blank, The History of Islamic Political Thought. New York: Routledge Publishers USA, 2001. page 124
[20]  Antony Blank, The History of Islamic Political Thought. New York: Routledge Publishers USA, 2001. page 150
[21] Antony Blank, The History of Islamic Political Thought. New York: Routledge Publishers USA, 2001. page 150
[22] Antony Blank, The History of Islamic Political Thought. New York: Routledge Publishers USA, 2001. page 147
[23] Antony Blank, The History of Islamic Political Thought. New York: Routledge Publishers USA, 2001. page 152
[24] Antony Blank, The History of Islamic Political Thought. New York: Routledge Publishers USA, 2001. page 153
[25] Antony Blank, The History of Islamic Political Thought. New York: Routledge Publishers USA, 2001. page 153
[26] [26] Antony Blank, The History of Islamic Political Thought. New York: Routledge Publishers USA, 2001. page 157
[27] Antony Blank, The History of Islamic Political Thought. New York: Routledge Publishers USA, 2001. page 60
[28] Antony Blank, The History of Islamic Political Thought. New York: Routledge Publishers USA, 2001. page 143
[29] Antony Blank, The History of Islamic Political Thought. New York: Routledge Publishers USA, 2001. page 215
[30] Antony Blank, The History of Islamic Political Thought. New York: Routledge Publishers USA, 2001. page 83.
[31] Antony Blank, The History of Islamic Political Thought. New York: Routledge Publishers USA, 2001. page 84
[32] Maurice Lombard, The Golden Age of Islam. New York: American Elsevier Publishing Company USA, 1975. Page 97.
[33] Dominique Sourdel, Medieval Islam. Boston: Routledge & Kegan Paul USA 1983. Page182.
[34] Antony Blank, The History of Islamic Political Thought. New York: Routledge Publishers USA, 2001. page 109
[35] Antony Blank, The History of Islamic Political Thought. New York: Routledge Publishers USA, 2001. page 144.
[36] Dominique Sourdel, Medieval Islam. Boston: Routledge & Kegan Paul USA 1983. Page183.
[37] Ali, Tariqh. Islam, “Empire and the Left” In: Conversations with History. The Institute of International Studies, University of California at Berkeley. May 8, 2003
[38] Ali, Tariqh. Islam, “Empire and the Left” In: Conversations with History. The Institute of International Studies, University of California at Berkeley. May 8, 2003



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  4. Roberson, R.A. Shaping the Current Islamic Reformation. Portland, OR: Frank Cass, 2003.
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  6. “Renaissance.” In: Wikipedia: The Free Encyclopedia. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Renaissance