Sari Nusseibeh

This first-time and excellent English-Arabic production of an eleventh-century work by the moral philosopher Miskawayh consists of “Conclusive Answers to Disparate Questions” put to him by Tawhidi, a literary intellectual. The book should not be viewed simply as a window for the modern English reader on what occupied the minds of thinkers in that milieu and of that period. As Vasalou notes in the introduction, the work does not quite fit into the Arabic genre of the Aristotelian Problemata literature, where one expects to find straightforward arguments between opposed views on specific topics; the work is sui generis in consisting of brief but serious “teacher” responses to a series of disconnected and what often seem to be simplistic but taunting questions raised by an inquirer whom we know to have been as knowledgeable in philosophy as the respondent himself. (In one about how customs of different nations originate, the respondent's curt answer is that he neither knows nor cares to know, this not being a matter that adds to knowledge!) It is this strange feature of the work—rather than the classical answers provided by the philosopher—that has occupied contemporary scholars (like Mohammed Arkoun) who have worked on the subject. What was Tawhidi's intention in putting such questions to Miskawayh?As Vasalou points out, the questions often seem articulated more in the form of wonderment about a common fact (“Why is it so?”) than to stimulate a pedantic answer (“This is what the textbook says”). For example, why is it that we can create images for ourselves of what we consider to be the most hideous but are unable to conceive images of the finest or purest or most beautiful? Surely, if we could, we would be able to live happier lives! Miskawayh's classical answer on souls and body humors here seems to miss the point of the question completely. “Why is laughter infectious?” expresses a similar wonderment not addressed in the answer. The question “What is the wisdom of there being mountains?” elicits a scientific answer, but the reader wonders whether it is the kind of answer the questioner was after, or whether instead he was trying to draw out Miskawayh on the theory of possible worlds (as in the famous exchange between Ibn Sina [Avicenna] and al-Biruni). In a similar vein, Tawhidi asks, “Why is it that we grow older but the process isn't reversed?” to which Miskawayh readily gives the textbook answer. But is that what Tawhidi was after?On the other hand, some questions and answers (such as some on injustice, or luck, or worthiness) seem quite genuine and straightforward, but one wonders if Tawhidi is complaining in them about his own hard life and unfortunate circumstances to one of whom he is envious and considers to be less worthy and more fortunate than himself. (Unlike Miskawayh, Tawhidi was never able to land himself a secure position or income.) It is in this latter context, perhaps, that we can better understand the psychological background of the several questions on suicide Tawhidi also includes in his bag of queries. In the end, we are left to wonder whether Tawhidi was simply luring Miskawayh to show himself to be a “novice” and if the latter innocently fell into the trap. Whatever the answer, the book is informative and entertaining.

Historically, ethical deliberations amongst religious scholars in Islam played a far more important role in determining ethical and social practices of Muslims than did analogous deliberations by philosophers. A common language was never developed between scholars of the two disciplines, a circumstance which still feeds into a growingly unhealthy relationship in Muslim society today between two registers, the religious and the rational. Primarily this was the result of the philosophers’ dogma that theirs was a superior reasoning methodology to that of the jurists. Besides challenging this dogma by exposing the rational rigor practiced by jurists, this paper argues that a long needed common language between the two registers is vital if modern Muslim society is to set a healthy course for itself in an ever-changing world.

This book deals with the philosophy of Ibn Sina - Avicenna as he was known in the Latin West- a Persian Muslim who lived in the eleventh century, considered one of the most important figures in the history of philosophy. Although much has been written about Avicenna, and especially about his major philosophical work, Al-Shifa, this book presents the rationalist Avicenna in an entirely new light, showing him to have presented a theory where our claims of knowledge about the world are in effect just that, claims, and must therefore be underwritten by our faith in God. His project enlists arguments in psychology as well as in language and logic. In a sense, the ceiling he puts on the reach of reason can be compared with later rationalists in the Western tradition, from Descartes to Kant ¿though, unlike Descartes, he does not deem it necessary to reconstruct his theory of knowledge via a proof of the existence of God. Indeed, Avicenna¿s theory presents the concept of God as being necessarily presupposed by our theory of knowledge, and God as the Necessary Being who is presupposed by an existing world where nothing of itself is what it is by an intrinsic nature, and must therefore be as it is due to an external cause. The detailed and original analysis of Avicenna¿s work here is presented as what he considered to be his own, or ¿oriental¿ philosophy. Presenting an innovative interpretation of Avicenna¿s thought, this book will appeal to scholars working on classical Islamic philosophy, kal¿m and the History of Logic.