Forum The Value of Classical Islamic Thought for Muslims Today Scott Lucas Abstract This article challenges the assertion, found in the writings Dr. Taha Jabir Al-Alwani and other Muslim reformers, that Islamic thought declined precipitously in the early centuries of Islam and is of little value to contemporary Muslims. It introduces readers to the sophis- ticated thought of four diverse Muslim thinkers from the 5th/11th century who each wrote about topics that remain important to Muslims today, such as the nature of the soul, ethics, the purpose of knowledge, and spirituality.  These thinkers are the philosopher-his- torian Miskawayh, the Sunni Mu‘tazili al-Ḥākim al-Jishumī, the Zahiri Ibn Ḥazm, and the Hadith scholar al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī.  In addition to drawing specific lessons from these classical thinkers’ writings, the article encourages contemporary Muslims to emulate their practice of reading widely, including works of Muslim phi- Scott Lucas is an associate professor of Islamic Studies in the School of Middle Eastern and North African Studies at the University of Arizona. He is current- ly working on multiple research projects on classical Zaydi Islam in Yemen and has been a Muslim since 1995. An earlier version of this article was presented at Renewal of Islamic Thought: A Conference in Honor of Shaykh Dr. Taha Jabir al-Alwani, at the International Institute of Islamic Thought in Herndon, VA, on October 23, 2017. Lucas, Scott. 2020. “The Value of Classical Islamic Thought for Muslims Today.” American Journal of Islam and Society 37, nos. 3-4: 149–173 • doi: 10.35632/ajis.v37i3-4.1470 Copyright © 2020 International Institute of Islamic Thought 150 The American Journal of Islam and Society 37:3-4 losophy and theology, and to appreciate the significant connection they made between the acquisition of knowledge and its application to daily life. In a spirited essay, Sherman Jackson claimed that liberal/progressive Mus- lims tend to describe the classical Islamic tradition as “problematic,” while members of modernist Islamic movements consider it largely “irrelevant.”1 For liberals and progressives, the sole hope for thoughtful Muslims is a new outburst of creative ijtihād, or critical thinking, based directly on the unme- diated reflection upon the Qur’ān and Sunna. Both liberal and modernist sentiments regarding the classical Islamic tradition, identified by Jackson, are visible in a collection of the late Dr. Taha Jabir al-Alwani’s essays, titled Issues in Contemporary Islamic Thought (2005). Dr. al-Alwani claimed that the deep crisis in Islam began after the death of al-Ṭabarī (310/923) and intensified over the subsequent millennium of Islamic history.2 Its primary cause was the triumph of taqlīd, which allegedly “cleared the way for fa- talism, which prepared the ground for tyranny, injustice, and despotism.”3 In fact, according to Dr. al-Alwani, “The Ummah’s intellectual decrepitude reaches its lowest ebb under the Abbasid rulers in the fifth Islamic centu- ry.”4 Perhaps more significantly, given Islam’s global mission, he writes that “unless the call to ijtihad becomes a widespread intellectual trend, there is little hope that the Ummah will make any useful contribution to world civ- ilization or correct its direction, build its own culture or reform its society.”5 The goal of this article is to challenge the frequently asserted premise that Islamic Civilization lost its intellectual vitality around the turn of the fourth/tenth century and argue that this false premise leads Muslims to reject a valuable part of their heritage. In fact, many Western historians of Islam would count the fourth/tenth and fifth/eleventh centuries among the best years of Islamic thought.6 This was the age during which the fruits of the vast translation movement of Greek culture into Arabic ripened, yielding such exceptional minds as al-Fārābī, Ibn Sīnā, Miskawayh, and al-Bīrūnī. In the realm of theology, this was the age of al-Bāqillānī, al-Ju- waynī, al-Qāḍī ‘Abd al-Jabbār, and al-Ghazālī. In law, master jurists such as al-Māwardī, al-Sarakhsī, and Ibn Ḥazm produced extraordinarily compre- hensive books. Even in the hadith disciplines, scholars such as Ibn Ḥibbān, al-Ḥākim al-Naysābūrī, Ibn ‘Abd al-Barr, al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, and Abū Bakr al-Bayhaqī made substantial contributions to Islamic thought. The classification of the fifth/eleventh century as an age of intellectual darkness is harmful for intellectually curious Muslims. It erases some of 151Lucas: The Value of Classical Islamic Thought for Muslims Today the most creative Muslim minds in history. It delegitimizes the traditions of kalām-theology, philosophy, and even fiqh, traditions which have always been at the forefront of Islamic thought and inquiry. It also silences Mus- lim scholars whose writings could be highly attractive to non-Muslims and improve their impression of Islam. Therefore, this article will show how the writings of four great thinkers of the fifth/eleventh century—Miskawayh, al-Ḥākim al-Jishumī, Ibn Ḥazm, and al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī—can help contemporary Muslims negotiate some of the intellectual and spiritual challenges we face today. I selected these four very different scholars for several reasons. First, they wrote impressive books on a variety of topics, most of which never have been translated from their original Arabic. Secondly, they are all in- dependent thinkers, who freely expressed their personal opinions, while drawing on the teachings of their predecessors. In their individual ways, each of them encourages their readers to think more deeply, and to unlock the potential of their minds. They also write about ethics and, in the cases of Miskawayh, Jishumī, and Ibn Ḥazm, big theological and metaphysical topics of universal significance. Both Miskawayh and, to a lesser degree, Ibn Ḥazm demonstrate how the pre-Islamic Hellenistic tradition directly enriched Islamic thought, and the former illuminates how the teachings of Aristotle and Plato found in Muslim writings are very different from their presentation in modern Western universities. Finally, all of these scholars engage the Qur’ān and prophetic hadith in diverse ways and share a re- markable indifference to the discipline of hadith criticism, which has be- come so central to contemporary Islamic discourse. 1. Miskawayh The first of our luminaries is Abū ‘Alī Aḥmad b. Muḥammad Miskawayh, whose long life lasted from 320/932 to 421/1030.7 A Persian secretary, phy- sician and librarian for various Buyid princes, Miskawayh achieved fame for his history, Tajārib al-umam (Lessons of the Nations), and his signif- icant work on ethics, Tahdhīb al-akhlāq (The Refinement of Character). I wish to focus on this latter work, which received an excellent translation by the American-trained, Palestinian scholar, Constantine Zurayk, in 1968. Divided into six chapters, The Refinement of Character covers the topics of the soul and its faculties, character and its refinement, the good, justice, love and friendship, and the health of the soul. Are there any more signifi- cant topics to human wellbeing in the temporal world than these? 152 The American Journal of Islam and Society 37:3-4 What makes Miskawayh so pleasurable, in addition to his clear style of writing, is his confident harmonization of Islam with the Graeco-Hel- lenistic tradition that was translated into Arabic during the early ‘Abbāsid period. In the words of Majid Fakhry, Miskawayh constructs upon a Platonic psychological base an ethical the- ory in which: (a) the concept of virtue is expressed in Aristotelian and, to a lesser extent, Stoic terms; (b) the theory of happiness, conditioned by (c) the vocation of the soul and its fate after death, though allegedly Aristotelian, is primarily Neo-Platonic.8 In other words, Miskawayh ties Aristotle’s division of the soul into ra- tional, spirited, and appetitive faculties to Plato’s four cardinal virtues of temperance, courage, justice, and wisdom.9 Then, in an original manner, Miskawayh elaborates a host of subordinate virtues for each of the four car- dinal ones. Wisdom (ḥikma) is divided into intelligence (dhakā’), retention (dhukr), rationality (ta‘aqqul), quickness and soundness of understanding (jūdat al-dhihn), clarity of mind (ṣafā’ al-dhihn), and capacity for learning (suhūlat al-ta‘allum). For temperance (‘iffa), the subordinate virtues are modesty (ḥayā’), sedateness (da‘a), self-control (ṣabr), liberality (sakhā’), integrity (ḥurriyya), sobriety (qanā‘a), benignity (damātha), self-discipline (intiẓām), good-disposition (ḥusn al-hadiyy), mildness (musālima), staid- ness (waqār), and piety (wara‘). Courage (shajā‘a) consists of greatness of spirit (kibar al-nafs), intrepidity (najda), composure (‘aẓm al-himma), fortitude (thabāt), magnanimity (ḥilm), calmness (sukūn), manliness (shi- hāma), and endurance (iḥtimāl al-kadd). As for justice, the subordinate virtues are friendship (ṣadāqa), concord (ulfa), family fellowship (ṣilat al- raḥim), recompense (mukāfa’a), fair play (ḥusn al-sharika), honest dealing (ḥusn al-qaḍā’), amiability (tawaddud), and piety (‘ibāda).10 This catalogue of virtues is further elucidated through the adoption of Aristotle’s famous concept of the “golden mean,” namely that each virtue is the mean between two extreme vices. For example, courage is the mean be- tween cowardice and recklessness, while temperance is the mean between profligacy and frigidity.11 Remarkably, all this information is found in the first chapter of The Refinement. Many additional surprises and lessons are found in the subsequent chapters, only a few of which can be touched upon here. The first major surprise in The Refinement of Character is the presenta- tion of Greek philosophers, especially Aristotle, as pious monotheists. The historical process by which this happened is long and not entirely preserved, 153Lucas: The Value of Classical Islamic Thought for Muslims Today but it is important to recognize that the “monotheist Aristotle” is far eas- ier and more attractive for Muslims to appreciate than the contemporary polytheist (and largely secular) Aristotle taught in Western universities. In the words of Richard Walzer, this religious Aristotle allowed Miskawayh to argue that “the agreement between the Divine Law and philosophy is absolute, the precepts given by the Prophet and by philosophy are identical, the Divine Law can, without any reservation, be understood as providing the essential preparation for a philosophical life.”12 The following quote, which Miskawayh puts in the mouth of Aristotle, epitomizes this unfamil- iar, monotheistic Aristotle: Whoever loves God is cared for by Him, as friends care for one and an- other, and he becomes the object of His beneficence…. God is the Wise, the Happy, and the Perfect in wisdom and happiness, and He is loved only by the truly happy and wise man, for a being finds pleasure only in his like….[Man] should rather aim with all his capacities to live a divine life. For though man is small in body, he is great by his wisdom and noble by his intellect.13 The second surprise is that Miskawayh’s philosophy culminates in mysticism. This, too, is a result of historical developments over the centu- ries prior to Islam, especially Neo-Platonism, but it remains striking how, in Miskawayh’s account, the master philosophers are essentially the same as Sufi masters in classical Islam. Of course, this confluence is not accidental, as we know al-Ghazālī and other intellectual Sufis read Miskawayh careful- ly, but given the modern custom of separating philosophy from mysticism, it is refreshing to see them reunited in The Refinement. Thus, while the first rank of humans is someone who “follows right conduct which keeps to the mean in virtue and does not transgress the judgment of reason,” the highest rank is the person who “loses all his will in regard to the outside world and all the accidents that affect his soul, and until his thoughts arising from these accidents die away and he is filled with a divine flame and a divine aspiration.”14 Indeed, according to Walzer, Miskawayh may have coined the expression “spiritual father” (wālid rūḥānī), which today is commonly used in diverse religious traditions.15 A final surprise in Miskawayh’s Refinement is a rational argument in defense of prayer and the author’s discussion of the higher objectives of the laws of prayer in Islam. His argument for prayer is straightforward: “it is disgracefully absurd and abominably unjust not to observe any obligation towards [God] not to offer Him, in return for these benefits and favors, 154 The American Journal of Islam and Society 37:3-4 what would remove from us the mark of injustice and of failure to fulfill the stipulation of justice.”16 In a passage that has attracted the attention (and admiration) of several Western scholars,17 Miskawayh then describes the higher purpose of communal prayer, Friday prayer, the Festival prayer, and even the Ḥajj: Possibly the Law made it an obligation on people to meet five times a day in their mosques and preferred communal prayer to individual prayer in order that they may experience this inborn fellowship which is the origin of all love and which exists in them in potency.18 Do we not see here a variety of maqāṣid al-sharī‘a, the higher objectives of Islamic law? And is it not remarkable that the maqāṣid here are related not to the ḥadd penalties, as they are in Ghazālī’s writings, but to that founda- tional practice of Islamic devotion, prayer? But what about scripture? It is true that The Refinement of Charac- ter makes minimal references to the Qur’ān or the Prophet Muḥammad. Therefore, it is necessary that we turn briefly to Miskawayh’s anthology of wisdom, Jāvīdān khirad, which was published under the title al-Ḥikma al-khālida (The Perennial Wisdom). This Arabic work arranges a large number of wisdom sayings by ethnicity: Persians, Arabs, Indians, Greeks, and then, abandoning the ethnic categories, ʿAbbāsid-era Muslims, such as Ibn al-Muqaffa‘, al-Fārābī, and al-‘Āmirī. Within the section devoted to wise Arab men, Miskawayh relates 72 prophetic hadiths, without isnāds, as is common in adab anthologies. Most of these are short statements, but one of the longer ones is well-known today (with an important twist): The Prophet said to ‘Abd Allāh b. ‘Abbās: “O nephew, shall I not teach you some words, such that God may benefit you by means of them?” Ibn ‘Abbās said: I said, “Yes, O Messenger of God.”19 He said: “Be mindful (iḥfaẓ) of God, and God will protect you. Get to know God in prosperity, and He will know you in adversity. If you ask, ask of God. If you seek help, seek help from God. If you can act sincerely toward God with certainty, then act [accordingly]. If you are unable to do this, know that there is much good for those who are patient with what they detest. Know that victory comes with patience; relief comes after calamity, and that verily with hardship there comes ease.”20 This hadith is found in the Musnad of Ibn Ḥanbal and al-Tirmidhī’s Jāmi‘, and became widely known through al-Nawawī’s Forty Hadith.21 In these traditionalist Sunni sources, this hadith has a strong, unmistakably 155Lucas: The Value of Classical Islamic Thought for Muslims Today predeterminist message, as can be seen from al-Tirmidhī’s version, which includes the statement: Know that if the Community were to gather together to benefit you with anything, it would benefit you only with something that God had already prescribed for you, and that if they gather together to harm you with any- thing, they would harm you with something God had already prescribed for you. The pens have been lifted and the pages have dried (rufi‘at al- aqlām wa-jaffat al-ṣuḥuf).22 By contrast, Miskawayh highlights human free will in his account of this hadith, and even employs the verb istaṭā‘a, the nominal form of which is used as a technical term for the human capacity to act in Islamic theolog- ical discourse. Even though scripture is peripheral to Miskawayh’s overall intellectual project, it is fully harmonious with his understanding of the philosophers, whose guidance and insights into the nature of our souls he finds so valuable for the attainment of happiness here on earth. 2. Al-Ḥākim al-Jishumī With our second luminary from the fifth/eleventh century, we shift from philosophy to Mu‘tazili theology. Abū Sa‘d al-Muḥassin b. Muḥammad b. Karāma (413-494/1022-1101), or al-Ḥākim al-Jishumī for short, is barely known to Muslims or Western scholars of Islam. A Sunnī Mu‘tazilī from the culturally rich region of Bayhaq and Nishapur, al-Ḥākim may have con- verted to Zaydism late in life, settled in Mecca, and was killed after writing a controversial book. He was the author of many works, including a large Qur’an commentary, al-Tahdhīb fī tafsīr al-Qur’ān, which was published only recently.23 Fortunately, manuscripts of several of his most important books have been preserved and some of them, such as the sixty sessions during which he discussed hadiths, are available online.24 I wish to highlight two of al-Jishumī’s major works here: al-Safīna al- jāmi‘a li-anwā‘ al-‘ulūm and his Qur’ān commentary, al-Tahdhīb. The Safīna is a massive encyclopedia of Islamic teachings, ranging across the fields of theology, the qualities of the Prophet, stories of the Prophets, merits of the Companions, merits of the Family of the Prophet, ethics, renunciation, and topics concerning death.25 The Tahdhīb is a voluminous tafsīr work, orga- nized according to the following eight categories of exegesis: Readings, lex- icography, grammatical syntax, structure, meaning, occasion of revelation, evidence and rulings, and narratives.26 Both works testify to al-Jishumī’s success in harmonizing the critical rationalist spirit of the Mu‘tazila with 156 The American Journal of Islam and Society 37:3-4 an appreciation for the vast heritage of hadiths, reports of early Muslim religious authorities, and didactic poetry. The Mu‘tazila are famous for their championing of rational inquiry and human freewill, and al-Jishumī does not disappoint on either account. The first chapter of al-Safīna is a synopsis of Mu‘tazili theology, arranged ac- cording to the four categories found in al-Qāḍī ‘Abd al-Jabbār’s Mukhtaṣar: divine oneness, divine justice (free will), prophethood, and divine laws. De- spite the familiar arguments and positions, one cannot but be struck by the quantity of prophet hadiths al-Jishumī relates, including the famous ḥadīth qudsī, narrated by Abū Dharr, in which God says, “O My servants! I have forbidden oppression for Myself and made it forbidden amongst you, so do not oppress.”27 Jishumī uses this widely-known hadith as a proof text that humans have free will, because, if God forbade oppression (ẓulm) for Him- self, and, given that there is injustice in this world, it must come from us.28 This is probably not the interpretation al-Nawawī was seeking to promote when he included this hadith in his collection of Forty Hadith! Possibly the largest surprise in the chapter on theology in al-Safīna is al-Jishumī’s discussion of taqlīd.29 He defines taqlīd as “the acceptance of someone else’s opinion without proof or an indicator,” and states that there is consensus among the Companions and jurists that taqlīd is permissible in legal matters. The dispute, however, concerns taqlīd regarding theolog- ical matters. The Basran Mu‘tazilites, Abū ‘Alī al-Jubbā’ī and his son Abū Hāshim, argue that taqlīd is strictly forbidden in this case, and that it is incumbent upon every Muslim to know the proofs behind each theological topic. By contrast, the Baghdādī Mu‘tazili, Abū’l-Qāsim al-Balkhī, and the Zaydī Imām, al-Qāsim b. Ibrāhīm, argue that taqlīd is permissible if the person accepts and adopts true opinions. Jishumī remarks, dispassionate- ly, that there are many Qur’ānic verses and narrations that support each position, and then proceeds to relate a dozen or so of them. What is more interesting is the summary of the arguments in defense of taqlīd that fol- lows his selection of reports. Altogether, al-Jishumī narrates six arguments in favor of taqlīd, with the important caveat that the muqallid must adopt true theological opinions:30 1. The verse “Therefore, give good tidings to my servants/ who hear ad- vice and follow the best thereof ” (Q. 39:17-18) does not stipulate the act of seeking out the evidence (istidlāl). Likewise, the verse “Lo! Those who say: Our Lord is God, and afterward are upright, the angels descend upon them” (Q. 41:30) and the hadith “My Companions are like stars; you will 157Lucas: The Value of Classical Islamic Thought for Muslims Today be guided by any of them whom you emulate,” do not require seeking out the evidence. Given that the objective of rational investigation (naẓar) and seeking out the evidence is to acquire true belief, if this objective is obtained, then it is permissible without any causal link (sabab) to rea- soning. Also, given that knowledge (‘ilm) is the belief in something as it really is (i‘tiqād al-shay’ ‘alā mā huwa bihi), if one is correct, then it is the same regardless of whether this [knowledge] was preceded by rational investigation. 2. We know that during the time of the Prophet, peace and blessings upon him, and his Companions, there were muqallidūn, such as the Bed- ouins, who would spread Islam among their people without stipulating that they seek out the evidence or reason. 3. That which is obligatory can either be knowledge, by itself, with rea- soning as a means (sabab), or as an obligation itself. There is no disagree- ment that having the correct belief is the primary objective. 4. Abū’l-Qāsim [al-Balkhī] said: What do you say about someone whose belief is true with an indicator, then he investigates and realizes that the indicator is incorrect, and that the indicator is something else—what is his status, given that he has correct belief ? Everything that has been said here applies [only] to the muqallid of the truth (fol. 18v). 5. Given that the muqallid of falsehood perishes, without a doubt, if the muqallid of truth also perishes, then his beliefs would be irrelevant, and this is incorrect.31 6. Finally, in the [famous] hadith, “Islam is built upon five [pillars],”32 the act of seeking out the evidence is not stipulated among the pillars. What is al-Jishumī’s conclusion? In short, knowledge of the proofs for theological matters is a collective obligation, rather than an individual one, which means that so long as one Muslim has sought out the evidence for the true theological positions, the obligation is fulfilled. This is the argument that gets the last word in this section, but al-Jishumī does not explicitly endorse it. Altogether, it is surprising to observe some rationalist Mu‘tazi- lites embrace taqlid; their arguments may reflect their frustration that most theologians forbid taqlīd yet, from the Mu‘tazili perspective, consistently come up with the incorrect theological positions. In other words, isn’t it 158 The American Journal of Islam and Society 37:3-4 better to accept the truth from someone who has interpreted scripture cor- rectly than to reflect upon the scripture by oneself and come up with mostly incorrect answers? Like Miskawayh, al-Jishumī demonstrates the compatibility between rationalist Islam and spirituality in al-Safīna. While the Mu‘tazila fre- quently are portrayed as the “defenders of reason,” al-Jishumī displays his spiritual side in the second chapter of al-Safīna, titled Ilāhiyyāt.33 This sec- tion reads like a Sufi manual, with sections devoted to the invocation (or remembrance) of God, gratitude toward God, and the vastness of God’s mercy. It concludes with the following twelve brief sections:34 1. The love of God and His Messenger 2. Intimacy with God and desire for Him; 3. Reliance upon God; 4. Total devotion to God and seeking His help; 5. Modesty toward God; 6. God’s Scrutiny and total awareness; 7. Positive Thinking about God; 8. Ease and Waiting for Relief from God; 9. Weeping; 10. On being Deceived about God; 11. Fear of God; 12. Sorrow and the Sorrowful Heart. Each section begins with a Qur’ānic verse, prophetic hadiths, generally narrated by a Companion without isnāds, and also quotes from pious men, like Ḥasan al-Baṣrī and Fuḍayl b. ‘Iyāḍ. For example, we find many hadiths from Abū Hurayra, such as, “Mercy is for the merciful, forgiveness is for those who forgive, and repentance is for those who repent. The people who are most severely chastised in this world are those who are most severely chastised in the Hereafter.”35 Jesus is quoted in another section saying, “The love of the Garden and fear of Gehenna bequeath patience in adversity and drive the servant away from ease in the temporal world.”36 Even the renun- ciant Dāwūd al-Ṭā’ī37 makes an appearance, teaching that: Whoever fears the Threat, what is remote is brought near to him. Who- ever extends his hope, his deeds become weak. Everything that will come is near. Everything that distracts you from your Lord is marked against you. Know that all worldly people are people of the graves; they will only regret what follows and be joyful for what they did earlier. (fol. 70r) 159Lucas: The Value of Classical Islamic Thought for Muslims Today He further includes a prophetic hadith, “The peak of wisdom is fear of Your Lord.”38 In short, there is no tension between rigorous Mu‘tazili rationalism and classical Islamic spirituality (at least of a sober variety), according to al-Jishumī. His talents as a rationalist exegete are on full display in his Qur’ān com- mentary, al-Tahdhīb, in his analysis of the ambiguous expression ūlī’l-amr in the famous verse, “O you who believe! Obey God, and obey the Mes- senger and those of you who are in authority (ūlī’l-amr); and if you have a dispute concerning any matter, refer it to God and the Messenger if you are (in truth) believers in God and the Last Day. That is better and more seemly in the end” (Q. 4:59).39 Under the section devoted to “meaning,” al-Jishumī narrates the following nine opinions regarding the meaning of ūlī’l-amr: 1. They are military commanders, according to Abū Hurayra, Ibn ‘Ab- bās (a), Maymūn b. Mihrān, al-Suddī, Abū ‘Alī [al-Jubbā’ī]; 2. They are commanders of the raids during the lifetime of the Messenger, according to Abū Muslim;40 3. They are scholars, according to Jābir [b. ‘Abd Allāh], Ibn ‘Abbās (b), Mu- jāhid, al-Ḥasan, ‘Aṭā’, Abū’l-‘Āliya, and al-Ḍaḥḥāk. It is what al-Qāḍī [‘Abd al-Jabbār] selected, because it is not necessary to follow the commanders until after it is known that they are following God and His Messenger, while the scholars (‘ulamā’), whenever they agree on something, it be- comes a proof. Also, this is correct because God says right after this “and if you have a dispute,” and that does not apply to the scholars; and, finally, because it is obligatory for the commanders to follow the scholars; 4. They are the four Rightly-guided Caliphs (no authorities cited); 5. They are the Caliphs Abū Bakr, ‘Umar, and ‘Uthmān, according to ‘Ikrima, whose evidence is the [Prophet’s] statement: “Follow those who come after me: Abū Bakr and ‘Umar;” 6. They are the Emigrants, Helpers, and those who follow them in goodness/virtue, according to ‘Aṭā’; 7. They are the Companions, according to Bakr b. ‘Abd Allāh; 8. They are the Commanders and rulers (salāṭīn): when they fulfill their obligations to their subjects, then their subjects are commanded to obey them, according to Ibn Zayd; and 9. They are all who possess sound judgment and knowledge, who admin- ister the people’s affairs, according to al-Aṣamm.41 Interestingly, all nine of these opinions are found in al-Tha‘labī’s (d. 427/1035) seminal Qur’ān commentary, al-Kashf wa al-bayān, although 160 The American Journal of Islam and Society 37:3-4 in a very different order, and without the Mu‘tazilī opinions of Abū ‘Alī al-Jubbā’ī, Abū Muslim, and al-Qāḍī ‘Abd al-Jabbār.42 And, it is not until the following section, devoted to “rulings,” that al-Jishumī informs his readers that his preference is for ūlī’l-amr to mean “scholars.” The section devoted to rulings indicated by Q. 4:59 displays al-Jishumī at the height of his exegetical powers. In a remarkable tour de force, he argues that all four sources of Islamic law are supported by the Qur’ānic clause, “and if you have a dispute concerning any matter, refer it to God and the Messenger.” This passage is worth quoting in full: [This clause] indicates [the validity of ] all of the legal indicators, because there are four: The Book of God; the Sunna of the Messenger of God; the consensus of the Community; and rational investigation and analogy. It indicates consensus by saying “if you have a dispute;” for, were consensus not a proof, it would have been obligatory to refer [back to God and His Messenger] in the absence of a dispute, just as it is obligatory to refer to it in the presence of [a dispute]. Otherwise, there is no point in making the dispute a condition [for the referral]. Then we were commanded to refer back to the Book of God, which indicates that it is a proof, because it is truthful, wise speech. Then He commanded [us] to refer back to the Messenger, the intention of which is his sound sunna. If it were not a proof, it would not be obligatory [for us] to refer to it. Then he commanded us to refer back—and if there is an explicit text, we take it. When He commanded us to refer back, it is obvious that the intended meaning is legal reasoning (istinbāṭ), and to refer the branch back to the root; and this is equivalent to what has been narrated about when [the Prophet] sent Mu‘ādh to Yemen and said “With what will you judge?” He replied, “With the Book of God.” “And if you do not find [the answer there]?” He said, “The sunna of the Messenger of God.” He said, “And if you do not find [the answer there]?” He replied, “I will strive with my opinion (ajtahid ra’ī).” He replied, “All praise belongs to God who aided the Messenger of God.” This indicates the invalidity of those who deny qiyās and ijtihād, and it indicates the invalidity of the school of the Rāfiḍa (Imāmī Shi‘ites), regarding consensus and qiyās, and it shows the invalidity of their school concerning the obligation to take one’s religion from the Imām, because God (Exalted is He) [only] obli- gates referral back to the Book and the Sunna, and does not make any mention of the Imām.43 161Lucas: The Value of Classical Islamic Thought for Muslims Today In short, al-Jishumī provides his readers with rich Qur’anic exegesis, so- phisticated rational arguments, and a profound spirituality in his massive corpus of writings, the vast majority of which today remains confined to old manuscripts located in Yemen and Europe. He provides valuable in- sight into the complex articulation of the Sunni Mu‘tazili tradition that had developed in fascinating ways by the fifth/eleventh century of Islamic civilization, a tradition which balanced rigorous commitments to rational inquiry, scripture, ethics, and spirituality. 3. Abū Muḥammad Ibn Ḥazm The third luminary in our short survey of fifth/eleventh century Islamic thought is the iconoclastic scholar from al-Andalus, Abū Muḥammad ‘Alī b. Aḥmad b. Sa‘īd, known as Ibn Ḥazm (384-456/994-1064). A famous schol- ar of wide-ranging interests, Ibn Ḥazm wrote on everything ranging from love, genealogy, ethics, law, legal theory, theology, Biblical criticism, and even logic. Even though only his treatises on love, ethics, and categories of the sciences have been translated into English, most scholarly attention has been directed towards Ibn Ḥazm’s unique Ẓāhirī hermeneutics. Ibn Ḥazm’s rejection of analogy, weak hadiths, consensus of Muslim generations after the Companions, and taqlīd, opens up space for creative and interesting legal positions. He is one of the only scholars of which I am aware to have constructed a complete articulation of Islamic law from scratch, solely on the basis of the Qur’ān and sound hadiths, which is preserved in his book al-Muḥallā bi-l-āthār. Perhaps the best-known case of his independent legal reasoning is his approval of music (or at least singing), which was quoted at length by the twentieth-century scholar, Muḥammad al-Ghazālī, and many others.44 Camilla Adang has shown that Ibn Ḥazm’s rigorous methodology (rather than sympathy for the accused) led him to reject the most severe punishments found in the mainstream law schools against same-sex inter- course.45 Furthermore, on the topic of criminal penalties, one of Ibn Ḥazm’s most surprising rulings is that the maximum discretionary punishment is only ten lashes per crime. How did he get that number? Apparently, the mainstream law schools never heeded a sound hadith found in al-Bukhārī’s Ṣaḥīḥ that says, “Do not flog anyone more than ten lashes, save in the case of a ḥadd penalty.”46 Ibn Ḥazm’s Ẓāhirism and theological polemics make for engaging reading, so long as one can look beyond his caustic pen. No topic is off limits, whether it is the Bible, God’s attributes (or lack thereof, in his view), 162 The American Journal of Islam and Society 37:3-4 or the nature of the soul. The first dimension I wish to focus on here is Ibn Ḥazm’s advocacy for the intrinsic value of some of the non-religious disciplines. The most helpful work here is A. G. Chejne’s 1982 book, Ibn Ḥazm, which was published by a small Chicago-based publisher. Chejne not only re-edited and translated Ibn Ḥazm’s short treatise on the sciences, Marātib al-‘ulūm, but also wrote an extended analysis of Ibn Ḥazm’s appre- ciation for pre-Islamic disciplines, such as logic, and his muted enthusiasm for Arabic ones, such as poetry and advanced grammar. He summarizes Ibn Ḥazm’s short treatise, al-Tawqīf ‘alā shāri‘ al-najāh, by quoting his ob- servation that philosophy and rules of logic are “a lofty and good science because it contains the cognition (ma‘rifa) of the whole world and what it contains regarding genera (ajnās), species (anwā‘), particulars (ashkhāṣ), substances (jawāhir), and accidents (a‘rāḍ), and because it leads to the es- tablishment of proof (burhān) without which nothing can be regarded as true.”47 Mathematics, geometry, medicine, and astronomy are also praised, and declared to be “very useful in this world.” However, Ibn Ḥazm, in con- trast to Miskawayh,48 stresses that the prophetic sciences are superior to the sciences of the Ancients for three reasons: 1. They lead to “the improvement of spiritual character and the uphold- ing of justice, generosity, continence, truthfulness, courage, patience, clemency, mercy, and avoidance of all things.” 2. They repel injustices, protect personal property, and provide security from invasions. 3. They inform us that the world is created, has a beginning and an end, and that time and space are finite.49 Near the end of his life, according to Chejne, Ibn Ḥazm revisited the various fields of learning and composed his treatise, The Categories of the Sciences. He identified seven sciences, three of which—religion, language, and history—are particular to each nation or religious community, and four of which are universal. The following table reproduces Chejne’s sum- mary of these seven sciences: I. Religious Law (sharī‘a) a. Readings & meanings b. Hadiths c. Jurisprudence (fiqh) 163Lucas: The Value of Classical Islamic Thought for Muslims Today d. Theology (kalām) II. Language a. Grammar (naḥw) b. Lexicography (lugha) III. History a. Dynastic b. Annalistic c. Countries d. Classes/Generations (ṭabaqāt) e. Genealogy (nasab) IV. Astronomy a. Astronomy proper b. Astrology V. Numbers VI. Logic a. Rational b. Sensory VII. Medicine a. Spiritual b. Corporal i. Nature of corporal things ii. Composition of the organs iii. Knowledge of diseases iv. Surgery v. Preventive medicine What may be most striking about this analysis is the significance Ibn Ḥazm awards the sub-disciplines of history. While Muslims have a rich historio- graphical tradition, it is unusual to see history alongside the religious sci- ences and those pertaining to the Arabic language. It is also reassuring for aspiring Muslim doctors or scientists that their fields are just as legitimate as core Islamic sciences, even though Ibn Ḥazm states clearly that the reli- gious sciences are superior to them. It is less reassuring for those Muslims who find Miskawayh and his monotheist Greek philosophers inspiring, as Ibn Ḥazm allows no space for non-Islamic metaphysics, and there is little evidence of his approval of a mystical relationship between believers and God that we find in Miskawayh’s The Refinement of Character. While Ibn Ḥazm’s analysis of the sciences illustrates the value of many non-religious sciences, his explanation of the nature of the soul and its journey demonstrate his fiercely independent mind. Recent research has 164 The American Journal of Islam and Society 37:3-4 proven Ibn Ḥazm’s influence on the author of the most celebrated book on the nature of the soul in Sunnism, Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyya, who wrote Kitāb al-rūḥ.50 In his Kitāb al-fiṣal, Ibn Ḥazm identifies five theories con- cerning the nature of the soul: 1. The soul does not exist, according to al-Aṣamm; 2. The soul is an accident, according to Galen and Abū’l-Hudhayl; 3. The spirit (rūḥ) is merely the accident of life, but not the soul, accord- ing to al-Bāqillānī and the Ash‘arites who follow him.51 4. The soul is a substance that is neither a body nor an accident (jawhar laysat jisman wa-lā ‘araḍan); it lacks length, width, or depth; it is not in a specific space; it is indivisible; it is an agent and manager; it is the person, according to some of the Ancients and Mu‘ammar b. [‘Abbād] al-‘Aṭṭār,52 one of the Mu‘tazila. 5. The soul is a body, with length, width, and depth; it exists in space, and is rational and discerning (mumayyiza); it controls the body, according to all of the other people of Islam and adherents to religions that believe in the Hereafter.53 In the pages of al-Fiṣal that follow, Ibn Ḥazm meticulously (and passion- ately) destroys each of these theories, save the last one, which he embraces and defends. He heaps abuse upon the Ash‘arite al-Bāqillānī, accusing him of advocating the heretical position of the transmigration of souls, which would put him outside the fold of Islam.54 He devotes special attention to the theory, adopted by most Muslim philosophers, that the soul is an in- corporeal substance.55 Ibn Ḥazm stresses that a three-dimensional body can be imperceptible, and describes the soul as the most delicate (khafī- fa) body imaginable, which needs no nourishment, and experiences no growth, which actually brings him close to the philosopher’s description of the incorporeal soul.56 Like Miskawayh, he defines the death of the soul exclusively as its separation from the body, not that it becomes nonexis- tent.57 He seeks to undermine the argument that, if the soul were a body, it would need another soul to govern it, leading to an infinite regress, with the argument that this is a false premise: the agent (fā‘il) for the soul, and all of the other bodies in the world, and that which grasps them and preserves all of them, and which grants 165Lucas: The Value of Classical Islamic Thought for Muslims Today those, which are incapable of acting, the capacity to act, is the One who brought into being (al-mubtadi’) the soul and all of the bodies and ac- cidents in the universe, and the One who perfects all of that: God, the Creator, the Maker, the Fashioner (Mighty and majestic is He).58 Ibn Ḥazm’s arguments for the corporeal nature of the soul are reproduced and adopted by Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyya and need not detain us here.59 Of greater interest is Ibn Ḥazm’s possibly unique position that every single soul was created simultaneously, long before the bodies to which they become attached.60 His evidence for this is the famous “Verse of the Covenant,” (Q. 7:172) and an earlier verse in the same Sūra, which reads: “And We cre- ated you, then fashioned you, then told the angels: Fall prostrate before Adam!”61 In other words, God created all of our souls a very long time ago, our souls testified that God is our Lord (Q. 7:172), then they remained alive in a realm called the Barzakh62 until God breathed them into the bodies He created for them. Death, as mentioned above, is merely the soul’s sep- aration from the body and return to the Barzakh until Resurrection Day, when God reattaches it to its body, which then enters either the Garden or Hellfire. This theory answers the big questions of where souls go after death, how all humanity answered God’s question “Am I not your Lord?” (Q. 7:172), and how the Prophet Muḥammad met earlier prophets or saw that the souls of saved people were on the right of Adam, while the souls of the damned were on the left. The fact that Ibn Ḥazm does this in a few pages is impressive, even though his position enraged later Sunni scholars, such as Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyya.63 4. al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī The fourth and final luminary from the fifth/eleventh century whom I wish to introduce briefly is Abū Bakr Aḥmad b. ‘Alī, known as al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī (392-463/1002-1071). Most famous for his massive biograph- ical dictionary, Tārīkh Madīnat al-Salām (or Tārīkh Baghdād), al-Khaṭīb composed treatises in most subfields of the hadith sciences. His major work on ethics and etiquette, al-Jāmi‘ li-akhlāq al-rāwī wa ādāb al-sāmi‘, is devoted solely to the proper conduct between the hadith teacher and the student of hadith. Unlike the previous three scholars, al-Khaṭīb’s works deal mostly with highly specialized topics of interest only to the most dedicated hadith scholar. Why, then, is he here with the philosopher Miskawayh, the Mu‘tazili theologian al-Jishumī, and the iconoclastic Ẓāhirī Ibn Ḥazm? 166 The American Journal of Islam and Society 37:3-4 One of al-Khaṭīb’s short works sheds light on the relationship between hadith and Islamic thought. Many revivalists, including Dr. Taha Jabir al-Alwani, have been adamant that new Islamic thought must be based squarely on the scriptural wellsprings of Islam, namely the Qur’ān and sound hadith.64 As laudable a project as this may be, al-Khaṭīb’s treatise, Iqtiḍā’ al-‘ilm al-‘amal (Knowledge Necessitates Action), shows how this may be impossible, especially when it is juxtaposed with the previous- ly-discussed texts in this paper. As indicated by its title, Knowledge Necessitates Action has a sharp, focused message. The purpose of acquiring religious knowledge is not to think or reflect on God or the cosmos, but rather to improve one’s actions. There is no theoretical knowledge in al-Khaṭīb’s worldview, merely practi- cal knowledge. His treatise is divided into a series of eleven mostly short chapters on topics ranging from “Censure of those who seek knowledge for fame,” to “Displeasure of those who seek hadiths to boast,” to even cen- sure of those who only study grammar. In his short introduction, al-Khaṭīb quotes an unnamed sage, who said: Knowledge is the servant of action. Action is the objective of knowledge. Were it not for action, knowledge would not be sought, and were it not for knowledge, action would not be sought. It is preferable to me to de- part from the truth out of ignorance, than for me to depart from it by abstaining from it.65 This message is amplified by multiple religious authorities. The Companion Abū l-Dardā’ said, “Verily, you will not be knowledgeable (or a scholar) until you become a learner; and you will not become a learner until you act upon what you have learned.”66 The Sufi Sahl al-Tustarī succinctly says, “Knowledge—all of it—is fleeting (dunyā); the Hereafter is only that of it which is acted upon.”67 He also adds that “All people are intoxicated, save the scholars; and all scholars are bewildered except the one who acts upon his knowledge.”68 The Sufi al-Khawwāṣ69 was even blunter than Sahl, as he said, “Knowledge is not acquired by large numbers of narrations. A schol- ar is only the person who heeds his knowledge and seeks to apply it, and emulates the sunna, even if he only has a little knowledge.”70 Finally, Fuḍayl b. ‘Iyāḍ sums up al-Khaṭīb’s message nicely: “A scholar remains ignorant of what he knows until he acts upon it. When he acts upon it, then he is a scholar.”71 167Lucas: The Value of Classical Islamic Thought for Muslims Today Despite its brevity, al-Khaṭīb’s treatise contains a wealth of memora- ble and catchy citations, all related to the importance of acting upon one’s knowledge. In one hadith, the Prophet is reported to have said “The si- militude of the scholar who teaches people good things but neglects them himself is like a lamp, which provides light for people but burns out it- self.”72 The Kufan-turned-Meccan hadith expert, Sufyān b. ‘Uyayna, said, “If knowledge doesn’t benefit you, it harms you,” which, as al-Khaṭīb explains, means that if one does not act upon it, it will be evidence against them on Judgment Day. The Caliph ‘Umar warned, “Do not be deceived by the person who recites the Qur’ān—it is just the words that we speak. Rather, direct your attention to the person who acts in accordance with it.”73 In another hadith, which the modern editor describes as totally baseless, the Prophet allegedly said, “Nobody recites the Qur’ān until they act in accor- dance with it.”74 Finally, in a hadith narrated by the direct descendants of the Prophet, ‘Alī taught, “Act each day according to what is in it, then you will be rightly-guided.”75 Another, presumably unintended, message from Knowledge Necessi- tates Action is that weak hadiths are an inescapable component of Islamic thought. In fact, there are so many weak hadiths in this work that its editor, the famous Salafi scholar, Nāṣir al-Dīn al-Albānī (1914-99), felt obliged to write a short preface explaining, but not fully defending, al-Khaṭīb’s citation of these questionable narrations. As long as the author provided isnāds, according to al-Albānī, he is free from sin, as it is the reader’s responsibility to know the caliber of the narrators. This is a weak defense, and al-Albānī acknowledges that it would have been better had al-Khaṭīb not included so many weak and defective hadiths. However, there is a broader lesson here, which is that classical scholars were comfortable using weak and bizarre hadiths to make their points, and the tremendous anxiety among modern Muslims over the authenticity of every single hadith may be unnecessary and even unhealthy. 5. Conclusion Near the end of his Refinement of Character, Miskawayh writes: For when the soul ceases to speculate and loses the power of thought and of deep searching for meanings, it becomes dull, stupid, and devoid of the substance of all good. If it becomes accustomed to laziness, shuns reflec- tion, and chooses to remain idle, it draws near to destruction, because, 168 The American Journal of Islam and Society 37:3-4 by this idleness, it casts off its particular form and returns to the rank of the beasts.76 I think that all four of the scholars I have discussed in this article would concur with this statement. Whether they consider Islamic law the first stage of education, prior to philosophy (in the case of Miskawayh), or the ultimate goal of education (in the case of Ibn Ḥazm), all four men encour- age and demand that their students think hard and be thorough in their research. In my opinion, these four thinkers collectively challenge the wide- spread notion among many liberal and modernist Muslim reformers that the classical Islamic tradition has little to offer contemporary Muslims. Here are some of the salient points I have derived from reading just a small selection of their voluminous writings: 1. It is good—and maybe necessary—to go outside Islamic scripture to find meaning in Islamic thought. Miskawayh, al-Jishumī, and Ibn Ḥazm boldly address big questions facing humanity—what is happiness, what is the soul, do we have free will, where do we go after we die—drawing on both scriptural and extra-scriptural texts in their inquiries. 2. There is complete harmony between philosophy and Islamic law: Aris- totle is a muslim, with a lower-case “m.” Miskawayh, and the Muslim phi- losophers in general, have an assessment of the great Greek philosophers, such as Plato and Aristotle, which contrasts sharply with the atheism associated with many modern philosophers. Their religiosity reinforces my previous point and may even encourage contemporary Muslims to profit from the rich Hellenistic legacy in classical Islamic thought that has withered significantly in the face of strict scripturalism over the past several centuries. 3. Harmony also exists between rationalism and spirituality. Both Miskawayh’s mystical philosophy and al-Jishumī’s Mu‘tazili spirituality recognize the natural human yearning for a connection to the divine, which can be achieved, according to them, through the intensive culti- vation of one’s intellect and personal piety, rather than total submission to a Sufi master. 4. Classical Muslims have a wealth of insight into the nature of the soul. There is a tremendous imbalance in Western education today between 169Lucas: The Value of Classical Islamic Thought for Muslims Today Endnotes 1. Sherman Jackson, “Liberal/Progressive, Modern, and Modernized Islam: Muslim Americans and the American State,” in Innovation in Islam, ed. Meh- ran Kamrava (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2011), 167-89. 2. Taha Jabir al-Alwani, Issues in Contemporary Islamic Thought (Herndon, VA: IIIT, 2005), 108. 3. Ibid., 78. the intensive study of bodies and the negligible study of souls, and Mus- lim thinkers can make a truly valuable contribution to the latter subject. 5. Maybe taqlīd isn’t our biggest problem. Jishumī’s account of the ratio- nalist defense of taqlīd serves as a reminder that the objective of rational inquiry and research is to obtain a result that is truthful and correct, not merely to follow the best methodology. The expectation that everyone must engage in ijtihād or istidlāl is highly unrealistic; what we really need are Muslims getting and adopting better answers to the big questions in life. 6. Weak hadiths are a significant part of our heritage. It is not only phi- losophers and Mu‘tazili theologians who use them; the very best hadith scholars, such as al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, fill their books with them. (Ibn Ḥazm is the exception that proves the rule.) This finding opens up an even vaster range of scriptural texts that Muslims can use in their creative interpretations of Islam. 7. The objective of hadith study is primarily worldly, in that it leads to beautiful conduct, rather than sophisticated thought. This is mani- fest in al-Khaṭīb’s Knowledge Necessitates Action, but also reiterated by Miskawayh, who quotes Aristotle as saying, “It is not sufficient to know the virtues; one must also apply and practice them.”77 Therefore the pro- found value of Islamic thought is twofold: it serves to enrich our minds and elevate our conduct. And God knows best. 170 The American Journal of Islam and Society 37:3-4 4. Ibid., 113. The fifth Islamic century began August 24, 1009 and ended August 31, 1106. 5. Ibid., 67. 6. For example, see Joel Kraemer, Humanism in the Renaissance of Islam, sec- ond edition (Leiden: Brill, 1992) and Lenn E. Goodman, Islamic Humanism (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003). 7. The most thorough study of Miskawayh remains Mohammed Arkoun, Contribution à l’étude de l’humanisme arabe au IVe/IXe siècle: Miskawayh (320/325-421) = (932/936-1030), philosophe et historien (Paris: Vrin, 1982 [1970]). A useful biography can be found in Kraemer, Humanism in the Re- naissance of Islam, 222-33. 8. Majid Fakhry, “The Platonism of Miskawayh and Its Implications for His Ethics,” Studia Islamica 42 (1975), 40-41. 9. Richard Walzer, “Some Aspects of Miskawaih’s Tahdhīb al-Akhlāq,” in Greek into Arabic (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1962), 221. 10. Miskawayh, Refinement, 17-22. I have adopted Zurayk’s translation through- out this paper. Miskawayh also includes a brief analysis of the virtue of liber- ality in this passage. 11. Miskawayh, Refinement, 24. 12. Walzer, “Some Aspects,” 233. 13. Miskawayh, Refinement, 152. 14. Ibid., 78-80. 15. Walzer, “Some Aspects,” 230. The expression “spiritual father” is found on p. 134 of Refinement. 16. Miskawayh, Refinement, 108. 17. Walzer, “Some Aspects,” 233-234; Goodman, Islamic Humanism, 109. 18. Miskawayh, Refinement, 127. 19. Oddly, the text has na‘am, instead of balā, which would be the proper re- sponse to a question posed in the negative. 20. Miskawayh, al-Ḥikma al-khālida, ed. ‘Abd al-Raḥmān Badawī (Tehran re- print), 108. 21. It is hadith no. 19 in al-Nawawi’s Forty Hadith; see an-Nawawi’s Forty Had- ith, trans. Ezzedin Ibrahim and Denys Johnson-Davies (Damascus: The Holy Koran Publishing House, 1976), 68-71. It is no. 2669 in the Shu‘ayb Arnā’uṭ edition of Musnad al-Imām Aḥmad ibn Ḥanbal in 50 volumes. Similar ver- sions are hadiths no. 2763 and no. 2803 in Ibn Ḥanbal’s Musnad. See also Abū Nu‘aym al-Iṣbahānī, Ḥilyat al-awliyā’, 12 vols. (Beirut: Dār al-Kutub al-ʿIlmiyya, 2007), 1:388-89. 22. Nawawī, Forty Hadith, 69. 23. Fu’ād Sayyid (ed.), Faḍl al-i‘tizāl wa ṭabaqāt al-Mu‘tazila (Tunis: Dār al-Tūni- siyya, 1974), 353-93. 171 24. This book is called Kitāb jalā’ al-abṣār and is available in manuscript at: http://pudl.princeton.edu/objects/2r36tz81t. 25. Very few manuscripts of this book survive. For a discussion of its contents, see Oscar Löfgren and Renato Traini, Catalogue of the Arabic Manuscripts in the Biblioteca Ambrosiana (Vicenza 1981), 2:142-3. 26. Suleiman Mourad, “Towards a Reconstruction of the Mu‘tazilī Tradition of Qur’ānic Exegesis: Reading the Introduction to the Tahdhīb of al-Ḥākim al- Jishumī (d. 494/1101) and its Application,” in Aims, Methods and Contexts of Qur’anic Exegesis (2nd/8th -9th/15th c.), ed. Karen Bauer (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013), 103-4. 27. Al-Nawawī, Forty Hadith, 81 (no. 24). 28. Al-Jishumī, al-Safīna al-jāmi‘a li-anwā‘ al-‘ulūm, MS Milan, Ambrosiana C31, fols. 31v-32r. This manuscript was copied in 619/1222. 29. al-Jishumī, al-Safīna, MS Milan, Ambrosiana C31, fols. 16v-18v. 30. This is a summary translation of al-Safīna, MS Milan, Ambrosiana C31, fols. 18r-18v. 31. In other words, it is outrageous to believe that a Muslim who had the correct theological opinions would be sent to Hell because she did not seek out the evidence in support of them. 32. This is the third hadith in Nawawi’s Forty Hadith and is found in the Ṣaḥīḥs of al-Bukhārī and Muslim. 33. Ilāhīyāt frequently means “theology,” but in this context it seems to mean spirituality or reaching out to God. 34. al-Jishumī, al-Safīna, MS Ambrosiana C31, fols. 69r-73v. 35. Idib., fol. 67v. 36. Ibid., fol. 73r. 37. His full name is Dāwūd b. Nuṣayr al-Ṭā’ī; he was a Kufan renunciant who lived for a while in Baghdad. He died between 160-165/776-82; see al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Tārīkh Madīnat al-salām, ed. Bashshār Ma‘rūf, 17 vols. (Beirut 2001), 9:311-20; and al-Qushayri, al-Qushayri’s Epistle on Sufism, translated by Alexander Knysh (Reading, UK: Garnet, 2007), 29-30. 38. Al-Jishumī, al-Safīna, MS Ambrosiana C31, fol. 73r. 39. Al-Jishumī, al-Tahdhīb fī l-tafsīr, ed. ʿAbd al-Raḥmān al-Sālimī, 10 vols. (Beirut and Cairo: Dār al-Kitāb al-Lubnānī and Dār al-Kitāb al-Miṣrī, 2018- 2019), 2:1604-7. 40. Abū Muslim is Muḥammad b. Baḥr al-Iṣbahānī, a Mu‘tazilī scholar who wrote a Qur’ān commentary and died in the year 322/934; Shams al-Dīn al-Dāwūdī, Ṭabaqāt al-mufassirīn (Beirut 2002), 373 (read “Abū Muslim” for the printed “Abū Salama”); al-Qāḍī ‘Abd al-Jabbār, Faḍl al-i‘tizāl, 323. 41. al-Jishumī, al-Tahdhīb, 2:1606. al-Aṣamm is an early Mu‘tazili scholar whose name is ‘Abd al-Raḥmān b. Kaysān. 42. al-Tha‘labī, al-Kashf wa al-bayān, 5 vols. (Beirut: Dār al-Kutub al-ʿIlmiyya, 2004), 2:307-10. Lucas: The Value of Classical Islamic Thought for Muslims Today 172 The American Journal of Islam and Society 37:3-4 43. al-Jishumī, al-Tahdhīb, 2:1607. 44. Muḥammad al-Ghazālī, al-Sunna al-nabawiyya bayn ahl al-fiqh wa ahl al- ḥadīth, 12th ed. (Cairo: Dār al-Shurūq, 2001), 82-85. See also the fatwa on music at the Dār al-Iftā’ al-Miṣriyya, which quotes Ibn Ḥazm, among others: http://www.dar-alifta.org/Foreign/ViewFatwa.aspx?ID=6870. 45. Camilla Adang, “Ibn Ḥazm on Homosexuality: A Case-Study of Zāhirī Legal Methodology,” Al-Qantara 24, no. 1 (2003): 5-31. 46. Ibn Ḥazm, al-Muḥallā bi’l-āthār, 12 vols. (Beirut 1988), 12:421-5. This hadith is found in Kitāb al-ḥudūd: Bāb 43: kam al-ta‘zīr wa al-adab in al-Bukhārī’s Ṣaḥīḥ. 47. A.G. Chejne, Ibn Hazm (Chicago: Kazi Publications, 1982), 95. 48. To be clear, Miskawayh considers a prophet’s knowledge to be equal to that of the very best philosopher, but he only considers the religious sciences of law and related fields to be useful for the education of young people, as preparation for them to study philosophy; Miskawayh, Refinement, 45. 49. Chejne, Ibn Hazm, 95. 50. A contribution to this research, as well as a useful guide to it, is Livnat Holtz- man, “Elements of Acceptance and Rejection in Ibn al-Qayyim al-Jawziyya’s Systematic Reading of Ibn Ḥazm,” in Ibn Ḥazm of Cordoba: The Life and Works of a Controversial Thinker, ed. Camilla Adang, Maribel Fierro, and Sabine Schmidtke (Leiden: Brill, 2012), 601-44. 51. Ibn Ḥazm states that nafs (soul) and rūḥ (spirit) are two words for the same substance, which is the soul; Ibn Ḥazm, al-Fiṣal fī l-milal wa-l-ahwāʾ wa-l- niḥal, 3 vols. (Beirut: Dār al-Kutub al-ʿIlmiyya, 2007), 3:254. 52. The printed text erroneously has ‘Amr instead of ‘Abbād. For more on this early Mu‘tazili, see Hans Daiber, “Mu‘ammar b. ‘Abbād,” EI2. Abū’l-Ḥasan al-Ash‘arī ascribes this opinion only to the Baghdādī Mu‘tazili, Ja‘far b. Mubashshir; see al-Ash‘arī, Maqālāt al-Islāmiyyīn, ed. Muḥyī al-Dīn ‘Abd al- Ḥamīd, 2 vols. (Beirut: Al-Maktabat al-ʿAṣriyya, 1990), 2:30. He also affirms that al-Aṣamm believed that the soul (rūḥ) did not exist. 53. Ibn Ḥazm, al-Fiṣal, 3: 253-4. 54. Ibid., 3:257. 55. For Ibn Sīnā’s defense of the soul as being an incorporeal substance, see Jon McGinnis and David Reisman, Classical Arabic Philosophy: An Anthology of Sources (Indianapolis: Hackett, 2007), 188-92. 56. Ibn Ḥazm, al-Fiṣal, 3:260, 268. 57. Ibid., 3:268-9. According to Miskawayh, “death is nothing more than the soul’s abandonment of the use of one’s tools, namely, the organs which, when taken as a whole, are called a body, just as an artisan abandons the use of his own tools” (Refinement, 185). 58. Ibn Ḥazm, al-Fiṣal, 3:264. The final clause of this sentence is from Q. 59:24: huwa’llāhu’l-khāliqu’l-bāri’u’l-muṣawwir. 173 59. See Holtzman, “Elements of Acceptance,” 615-16. 60. Ibn Ḥazm, al-Fiṣal, 2:375-9. This discussion occurs in the chapter devoted to the resting place of the souls after death. 61. Q. 7:11. This is the part of the verse Ibn Ḥazm cites; the full verse is “And We created you, then fashioned you, then told the angels: Fall prostrate before Adam! And they fell prostrate, all save Iblis, who was not of those who make prostration.” 62. See Christian Lange, “Barzakh,” EI3. This Qur’ānic word refers to an inter- mediate realm where souls reside between death and Resurrection Day. 63. Holtzman, “Elements of Acceptance,” 616-18. 64. Al-Alwani writes, “The proper remedy [to our decline] would have been a comprehensive intellectual and fiqh-based effort to return the Muslims to the original sources, the Book of Allah and the Sunnah of His Prophet, and, through them, to bring about change in every aspect of life” (Issues in Con- temporary Islamic Thought, 117). 65. al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī, Iqtiḍā’ al-ʿilm al-ʿamal, ed. Nāṣir al-Dīn al-Albānī (Beirut: al-Maktaba al-Islāmī, 1984), 15. 66. Ibid., 26. 67. Ibid., 28. Arabic: al-‘ilm kulluhu dunyā, wa’l-ākhira minhu al-‘amal bihi. 68. Ibid. Arabic: al-nās kulluhum sukārā illā’l-‘ulamā’, wa’l-‘ulamā’ kulluhum ḥayārā illā man ‘amila bi-‘ilmihi. In another quote on the following page, Sahl says “Knowledge is one of the pleasures of the temporal world and, if [a person] acts upon it, it will count toward the Hereafter.” 69. Al-Khawwāṣ probably is Abū Isḥāq Ibrāhīm b. Aḥmad, a native of Samarra, who wrote books and made multiple pilgrimages to Mecca. He died in Rayy in 291/903 or 284/897; see al-Khaṭīb, Tārīkh Madīnat al-salām, 6:493-97; and Qushayri, Qushayri’s Epistle, 56. 70. al-Khaṭīb, Iqtiḍā’, 30. 71. Ibid., 37. 72. Ibid., 49. 73. Ibid., 71. 74. Ibid., 72. 75. Ibid., 109. Arabic: i‘mal kulla yawm bi-mā fīhi, tarshud. Another less literal meaning might be, “Act one day at a time, and you will be on the right path.” 76. Miskawayh, Refinement, 160. 77. Ibid., 153. Lucas: The Value of Classical Islamic Thought for Muslims Today