The End of the Golden Age: Part 2

In my last entry, I discussed the infiltration of mysticism into Aristotle, and the infiltration of metaphysical logic into theology. I argued that it was to the detriment of both, and ultimately led to enough frustration that one element had to go. This element was philosophy (as understood by the medieval Arabic word). But this is far from a satisfying or all encompassing solution to the problem. As important as it is to understanding the issue, there is another element that I alluded to in my previous entry. I would draw the reader’s attention to one of the questions I asked, “Why did people begin to blindly follow the authority of certain scholars rather than analyze the spirit of their work or attempt to build upon it themselves?” It is this question in particular that I would now like to discuss, as I see it as the result of a fundamental conflict in Muslim intellectual culture: the dichotomy of ijtihad and taqlid.

First, I must give a rough definition of these terms as they are rather technical in Islamic law. Essentially, Islamic jurisprudence (fiqh) is centered on drawing conclusions about religious law from the Qur’an primarily and the Hadiths (reported sayings of the Prophet) as a secondary referent. However, Islamic jurisprudence quickly developed beyond these two essential source due to the fact that many passages and sayings were open to interpretation or didn’t cover certain specific cases. Thus, religious thinkers developed a number of methods for solving novel cases when the answers were not clear in the Qur’an or Hadith. It isn’t necessary to go into them in detail. The method most relevant to our discussion, however, is that of precedence. In other words, one way to solve a difficult legal problem was to look at how other judges had solved a similar problem and to draw an analogy from that. For instance, one judge might face a difficult question of whether or not hashish is legal to smoke under Islamic Law. The judge would look to the Qur’an and Hadiths, but find that hashish is not mentioned. However, he might draw an analogy between the effects of hashish and the effects of alcohol, which is clearly forbidden. Then, he would conclude that hashish is also forbidden. In this case, the judge is practicing what’s known as ijtihad, or independent reasoning, because he had to use his own reasoning to figure out the answer from the evidence of the two sources (in this case, reasoning from analogy, though there are other methods of ijtihad as well). But, now that the judge has made this decision, he has since set a precedent. Other judges, then, may simply refer to his conclusion and judge all similar cases accordingly without going back to the sources, the Qur’an and Hadith, to make their own judgments on the evidence. This is a practice known as taqlid, or obedience to what another (earthly) religious authority figure has decided, and imitating his decisions without question. Of course, the practitioner of taqlid might still have to use a bit of reasoning in order to make the conclusion fit. So, for instance, another judge might face a similar question about another narcotic, and then conclude it is also forbidden based on a reference to the similarity between this case and that of the first judge. However, the practice is still technically taqlid.

Eventually, this practice of taqlid led to the development of the Sunni “rites,” or legal schools, known as the Maliki, Hanbali, Hanafi, and Shafi‘i, each named after the judge who contributed the rulings and reasons derived from their independent research. The important thing to note is that these early thinkers of Islamic law arrived at their conclusions using independent reasoning, or ijtihad, for the most part. This is simply due to the fact that, in the early days, there was not much precedent upon which to rely. However, after the establishment of these rites, Sunni judges and scholars tended to rely less on their own judgment and more on the conclusions of these four rites. Thus, taqlid became increasingly practiced in Islamic Law. Although, as historians have pointed out, ijtihad never totally went away (historians refer to a inaccurate idea of “closing of the gat of ijtihad,” and I have no intention of resurrecting this historical myth), certainly no new rites were being developed and Muslims scholars of Sunni Islam simply accepted one of the four rites without much question.

Even though this is a technical piece of Islamic jurisprudence, it is still integrally important to my argument. I do not believe it was simply a coincidence that Islamic law began to abandon ijtihad in favor of taqlid near the end of the Golden Age of Islam. Although technical terms with a specific meaning, I think they also illustrate a more fundamental problem in Muslim, Arab, and Middle Eastern culture at the time. In many ways, students of the sciences and philosophy also entered into a period of “taqlid.” That is, instead of using independent reasoning to continue to develop theories of the past, scholars were satisfied with what past experts had said. Thus, as mentioned in my previous essay, scholars were willing to read Ibn Khaldun, but didn’t find it necessary to really expand upon, modify, or challenge his ideas in any significant way. Instead, his books were read as if they had already exhausted the topic. I argue that this is part of a more general problem that could be described as a general spirit of taqlid replacing a spirit of ijtihad. That is, the very attitude behind the assumption of taqlid in its narrow juridical meaning is one that seemed to take over every aspect of the intellectual culture, that unquestioned and blind obedience to past authorities is behind the end to the intellectual flourishing of the Middle Ages. Indeed, I argue that the very reason thinkers failed to develop older sciences and philosophies is the same as that which inspired judges to practice the method of taqlid more and more. Both stem from the same root: an attitude, or “spirit,” of blind obedience as opposed to a spirit of independent reasoning. In essence, the Golden Age ended when the spirit of taqlid conquered the spirit of ijtihad.

It should be noted that this is not an original argument. In fact, many older historians and even several early modern Muslim reformers referenced the problem of ijtihad vs. taqlid as fundamental to why Islamic culture supposedly declined. I have no intention of making the exact same arguments, as many of them are faulty and go against historical evidence. However, I want to introduce the two concepts in order to apply them analogically to an attitude which I believe underlies the assumptions of scholarly literature from the Golden Age vs. that of later times (specifically, during the era of the Ottoman empire). I am not using these terms in their juridical meaning, only as potentially useful analogies to describe or consider a more general, more fundamental attitude which lies beneath the surface. Thus, I am presenting more of an angle, or perspective, rather than a strict historical argument. The analogy could be entirely wrong given the historical facts, but it may still be a useful way of looking at them.

Ijtihad Among the Medieval Scholars

First, I would like to describe the spirit of ijtihad as it pertains to medieval Muslim scholars. In general, their works express an idea that human knowledge is immediately imperfect, that a single person cannot hope to uncover all the truths of the world or to be correct on all of them. He may have reasoned opinions, indeed his opinions should be reasoned, but they should not be given the status of unquestionable truth. Thus, it was the duty of every scholar to continue to question, analyze, challenge, and build upon the knowledge of the past, not blindly accept it. Several scholars even argued quite positively about the future, saying that each successive generation is in a better position than former ones, because they have the more materials to work with, and hence can come to better, more reasoned arguments regarding nature, philosophy, and religion. But, this required the activity of building upon the past, not accepting it blindly.

This attitude can be seen in a number of thinkers. Imam Malik, for instance, is known for establishing a body of work regarding Islamic law (the Maliki rite). However, he was careful to state that his theories and conclusions might not be all correct or complete, and that anyone who blindly followed them without consulting the original sources and thinking for himself was a fool. Although he stood by his reasoning, he warned his students to not accept his ideas blindly, but to continue to debate and develop their own ideas on the subject. This is also consistent with his reported fondness for debate and dissenting opinions. Imam Malik’s attitude is one I would argue typifies the spirit of ijtihad. Indeed, the other founders of Sunni rites were in agreement on this point. Abu Hanifa is known to have argued in much the same spirit, and ibn Hanbal is perhaps among the best known of the four for his support of ijtihad, both in its legal sense, and seemingly in attitude as well.

Other scholars present a similar attitude, though they dealt in different area. Ibn Zachariyya Al-Razi, for instance, was a ninth century scholar known today for his work in medicine, alchemy (chemistry), and other such areas. Of particular note is his book, Doubts About Galen, he challenges many of that ancient Greek physician, and argued that is Galen were alive, he would approve of Al-Razi’s challenges, because both of them valued knowledge and truth above authority. Indeed, Al-Razi is known for a very positive belief in the future and in successive generations’ ability to improve passed down knowledge. And, his life was characterized by challenging accepted knowledge, even about religion. He even took the radical position of attempting to refute the Qur’an.

Of course, Al-Razi was a fairly unique individual in terms of his radical beliefs (or lack-there-of), but even more moderate scholars expressed similar underlying attitudes. As mentioned in the last essay, both Ibn Khaldun and Al-Ghazali encouraged people to continue to research the sciences and to question passed-down belief. Ibn Khaldun’s works on history were themselves direct challenges to the methodologies and arguments of historians at the time. He took it upon himself almost immediately in the Muqaddimah to attack falsehoods he perceived in historical accounts, and to disparage historians for being satisfied with chronicling events and simply repeating the accounts of past chroniclers. Ibn Khaldun’s work is a pure example of the spirit of ijtihad, and a call for men of reason to think for themselves. To do otherwise, he believed, was erroneous and ignorant.

This spirit of ijtihad, in many ways, was the spirit of the time. Although it is somewhat suspicious that many of these commentators felt it necessary to comment so openly on reason vs. blind imitation (perhaps there indeed was a problem with the latter, and they were the exceptions), it is still clear that much of the great thinkers were also characterized by an attitude of independent reasoning, regardless of whether they were strictly religious, such as ibn Hanbal, or radically irreligious, such as Al-Razi.

Spirit of Taqlid in the Ottoman Era

Generally speaking, this attitude of ijtihad was not to be found among the scholars and jurists of the Ottoman era. No new rites developed, and the metaphysical philosophies were considered finished. This is not to say that the Ottoman Era was one of stagnation. Indeed, the Ottoman government was very dynamic and adaptable, willing to use new technologies (such as gunpowder), new methods of political organization, and so on. Even jurists were at least partially willing to allow for some wiggle room in the interpretation of the law, often based on local custom, interests, and circumstances. But the basic assumption of taqlid was paramount, and the spirit of taqlid took over among the attitudes of the educated, scholarly classes. For every change in Ottoman policy, there was a backlash among court officials who tended to resist change. Eventually, if they did “come around” to a Sultan’s decisions, it was due to obedience to his authority, not from their own originality. These scholars were not interested in questioning or expanding significantly upon the knowledge of the past.

As an excellent example, I would like to refer the reader to the etiquette literature written around the time of 16^th century reform in the Ottoman Empire. At this time, the old order of tax collection and political organization was breaking down. Cavalrymen from the Sultan’s army were initially responsible for collecting taxes in designated areas and provinces. However, the Sultan increasingly needed hard cash (most peasants could only pay in goods) in order to pay his increasingly large corps of Janissaries (elite infantrymen). In order to gain more cash, the Ottoman government instituted a practice known as venality of office. Essentially, this meant that instead of collecting taxes directly, the government would auction off the right to collect taxes in an area for a set period of time, along with selling titles, government positions, and other positions of authority. This gave the Ottoman treasury a nice boost, but also resulted in a number of officials being less than qualified for their positions. Although we know historically that this did not lead to any major collapse within the Empire (indeed, it seems to have worked fairly well), many scholars were incensed by this radical change in political and social organization. Several wrote treatises and tracts decrying the sad state of the Empire, and arguing that this was a sign of its inevitable decline. Many cited Ibn Khaldun’s theories directly in making this argument.

The Ottoman Empire, of course, continued on in prosperity for a number of centuries afterwards, even though many of these scholars saw decline. These scholars might have been partially motivated by the fact that many of them lost their own court positions to people who had more money to buy them away. But, what is important is that their writings express a very significant attitude. Whereas earlier scholars in the spirit of ijtihad implicitly or explicitly expressed a positive outlook for the future, these Ottoman scholars saw only decline and degradation as the inevitable course of history. And, furthermore, they saw change and innovation especially as the source of this decline. To make their arguments, they unquestioningly followed Ibn Khaldun’s theories of circular history, that is that history moves from pre-sedentary to sedentary civilization, the latter of which inevitable declines, and eventually is conquered by another pre-sedentary nomadic group. They never questioned the fact that Ibn Khaldun himself wished people to challenge this element of his theory, and that his real pride was in reorienting historical research towards looking for causes and analyzing contemporary social forms for a better understanding of the past. Ibn Khaldun’s theory itself even expresses an idea that the dynamic element of nomadic groups is part of what gives them strength, whereas sedentary civilizations become too static and used to luxury, unwilling to progress in more noble tasks, and thus leading to a decline. In every way, Ibn Khaldun’s theory and methodology represented the spirit of ijtihad. But, these Ottoman scholars took those theories and unconsciously interpreted them in an erroneous, specifically taqlid kind of way. To them, it wasn’t stagnation that was a sign of decline, but change. It wasn’t useful to look to contemporary social forms (if they did, they would have noticed that venality of office was a very common practice). To them, it was enough to accept whatever observations Ibn Khaldun had made. And, they certainly didn’t look for causes; it was rather enough to simply fit what was happening in the empire into a specific mold, and explain that this is simply how history works. There was no desire to seek change, new ideas, new outlooks on causes, or anything of the sort of spirit which characterized Ibn Khaldun’s writings. Instead, there was a spirit of blind imitation, and the attitude that what there is to know on a subject has already been exhausted by a figure from the past. This is the spirit of taqlid which defined many aspects of the era as it pertains to intellectual matters.

Conclusion:

Thus, the spirit of ijtihad which characterized intellectual activity during the Golden Age was replaced by a spirit of taqlid. Blind obedience won out over independent reasoning. A positive view of the future and successive generations’ ability to improve human knowledge was lost to a deterministic belief in inevitable decline. On this last point, it is worth mentioning also the common belief among scholars of the Ottoman era that past generations were in fact better than successive ones, thus history itself was seen as a process of inexorable decline rather than human advancement. These are the attitudes which characterized the two eras.

By understanding the history in this way, I do not wish the reader to think that the end of the Golden Age has been explained in a cause and effect sort of manner. Rather, my intent is only to draw a useful picture, an interesting perspective on the past, based on a few examples. I wanted to present concepts and a perspective that might shed a new light on modern events. What are these modern events? That will be the topic of my next and final essay.