Just a place to jot down my musings.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Islamic Philosophy and Theology, VI: Free Will versus Predestination

Of the fissures that arose within the Muslim community by the time of the Umayyads, the one I've read about so far in Watt—the Khārijites, the Shī`ites, the Murji'ites—all seem to be largely political in origin. They do make theological claims, of course, but it seems to me at least that the origins of these fissures were political. 

Watt argues that this overlapping of political and theological claims is part of the Muslim community from the days of the Prophet's Hijra in AD 622, since it was from that point on that membership in the religious community of Muslims began to have political meanings regarding one's opinion of the Quraysh tribe, the role of the Prophet in governing the community, and so on. He writes:
"Until about the tenth century, all the Islamic sects are religio-political. Even when arguments appear to be hair-splitting theological subtleties, such as whether the Qur'ān is the created or uncreated speech of God, there are political implications." (p. 30)
If I remember right, it's around the tenth century that the `Abbāsid caliphate ends as an effective political entity, with power shifting to the hands of the Seljuq Turks and the various smaller kingdoms to the east and west of Baghdad. So once the actuality of a single united Islamic world state falls away, it's possible that the political implications of theological claims are also weakened. Interesting thought, but for now, let's turn to the next fissure that Watt explores, one that is primarily theological, but whose answers have definite political consequences: does free will exist, or is everything pre-ordained? 

I should add at this point that I have found two other sources to draw upon: The Philosophy of the Kalam, by Harry Austryn Wolfson (Harvard University Press, 1976), and Islamic Philosophy, by M. Saeed Sheikh (Octagon Press, 1982). These two books, particularly Wolfson's, are heavily focused on the theological minutiae, and thus offer a good contrast to Watt's account, which is interested in the broader historical narrative. For reasons related to my own technical competence and to my desire for continuity, I am going to continue with the same system of transliteration I've followed so far, since Wolfson's and Sheikh's systems are similar neither to one another nor to Watt's. I trust I'm making fair use of all these materials, and I certainly have no commercial interests in mind. My only goal is to achieve greater clarity of thought for myself, and these posts are meant to function essentially as my notes to capture my thoughts as I progress through Watt's beautiful book. Hope nobody minds or is offended.

Pre-Islamic Arab Notions
Anyway, back to work. Watt asks this question within the historical context of Arab beliefs. Before the advent of Islam, the desert-dwelling Arabs had a fatalistic idea of of destiny or time (zamān), seeing Time as governing the outcomes of human actions, although not necessarily the actions themselves. It was believed that the vagaries of Time determined human sustenance (rizq), and that the hour of a man's death was pre-determined. Watt writes poetically that 
"to cultivate the attitude of accepting with equanimity what 'the days' bring was probably the best hope of making a success of one's life in the harsh conditions of the desert." (p. 26)
Wolfson notes that the Qur'ān upends this view of the world by subordinating time and fate to God, that "there is a marked distinction between [the Qur'ān's] statements about the power of God over what happens in the world, including what happens to human beings, and its statements about God's power over the actions of human beings." (Wolfson, p. 601) Whereas it is clear that God's power over the former is absolute, with the length of life, birth, death, and all natural phenomena entirely controlled by God's will, the Qur'ān's attitude towards the latter is more complex. It states that a man's life, his fortunes, his sustenance—all are at the mercy of God, who alone decides when someone lives and when someone dies. There are some statements that either unambiguously affirm or hint at absolute predestination (he cites 10:100 and 7:29–30 as examples); there are also statements that thoroughly affirm or imply complete free will (including 20:84).

Political Implications
Under the Umayyads, this idea of God as Supreme Sustainer (al-Razzāq) was extended to mean that the caliphate itself had been bestowed upon them by divine decree. It was thus in their best interests to attribute all actions and all outcomes to God's own will—they claimed divinely backed authority for themselves that would justify their actions if they went right, but they could also absolve themselves of responsibility for unpopular acts by arguing that "God had willed it so". Not surprisingly, the theological question of free will turned into an act of political defiance.

The rise of the Qadarites
Confusingly, those who denied the absolute supremacy of God's qadar or power to govern that which will be have come to be known as the Qadarites. Beginning with a letter traditionally attributed to al-Ḥasan al-Baṣrī, the Qadarites also quoted the Qur'ān in favor of their own position. al-Ḥasan argued that "when the Qur'ān is considered as a whole, the determination of human activity by God follows on some act of human choice and is a recompense for it." (p. 27) According to him,
"God created only good, and … men's evil acts are from themselves or from Satan; but … God's 'guidance' of men contained an element of 'succour' or 'grace' (tawfīq)." (p. 27)
This meant that al-Ḥasan could oppose actions carried out by the Umayyads, since he believed that the evil rising from the action was due to the defects of the Umayyads, and not part of a divine decree of some sort. The theological question of free will was distinct from the question of the succession of Caliphs, and thus there were Khārijite Qadarites and Murji'ite Qadarites who opposed the Umayyads. According to Watt,
"Most of the Qadarites and other members of the general religious movement accepted that part of the Khārijite views which insisted that the activity of the state should be based on Islamic principles. It was when Umayyad policies went against Islamic principles that men in the general movement questioned the Umayyad claim that their acts were 'determined' by God."(p. 30)
The anti-Qadarite Position
Once the Umayyads were overthrown by the `Abbāsids, who came to power on the crest of a wave of Shī`ite-backed resentment, the Qadarites were no longer a necessarily political movement, and their ideas were largely taken over by the Mu`talizite rationalist theologians (who thoroughly fascinate me). Sheikh, whose book begins directly with the Mu`tazilites, claims that the early Mu`tazilites were called both Qadarites and `Adlites (from `adl, "justice"), since "justice of God can be vouchsafed only by holding man responsible for his actions." (Sheikh, p. 2)

Watt claims, interestingly, that the mainstream followers of al-Ḥasan's moderate Qadarite position gradually drifted into an anti-Qadarite position after the fall of the Umayyads. The burden of the textual argument to support or attack this position also shifted away from the Qur'ān (whose verses were interpreted by both sides to support their own positions) towards some of the Ḥadīth, which leaned towards a more predestinarian position. [Watt does not state this anywhere, but I wonder if the difference in position on this issue between the Qur'ān and the Ḥadīth (assuming there is one) is partially because the earliest Muslims were Arabs who held a fairly strict predestinarian view of life. This of course brings up the whole question of Arab non-religious custom versus Muslim custom, about which I know nothing and which Watt does not talk about in this context.]

The supporters of an anti-Qadarite position were termed Jabrites or Mujbirites (from jabr, or "compulsion"), and their positions varied. Watt notes at least two positions: according to the first, supported by Abū Ḥanīfa (of the Ḥanafite school of fiqh), "what reaches you (of evil) could not possibly have missed you, and what missed you could not possibly have reached you" (Watt, p. 29); according to the second, more extreme position, absolutely everything, including human responses to actions, are predestined by God. Two ḥadīth often in favor of this extreme Jabrite position were Muḥammad's statement about God's pen that has written down everything that will ever happen, and another that an individual's position in heaven or hell were predetermined at his / her birth. 

Wolfson adds that Jahm ibn Ṣafwān argued strenuously in favor of this extreme position, believing that "there is no difference between things that happen in the world in general and the actions of human beings." (Wolfson, p. 606) For ibn Ṣafwān, even though man is different from inanimate objects in that he has power (quwwa), will (irāda), and choice (ikhtiyār) when acting, it is nevertheless God who creates and maintains these qualities in man, and he is thus majbūr to act according to God's qadar. Thus, he argues that "reward and punishment, like human action, are subject to compulsion (jabr)" and "if compulsion is to be maintained, religious obligation must also be subject to compulsion." (Wolfson, p. 606)

Ultimate Consequences
Eventually, as any practicing Muslim reading this can guess, the Jabrites won and the Qadarite position was abandoned as heretical. Salvaged by the Mu`tazilite theologians, it was essentially lost to the religious mainstream. In Watt's words,
"The main stream of Islamic thought finally rejected Qadarism, even in a moderate version, and accepted one or other of these forms of predestinarian belief, though responsible theologians always found a place in their theories for moral effort. To this extent, Qadarism, unlike the belief in 'postponement', made little contribution to the final position of Sunnite Islam" (p. 29)
With this comes to an end the Umayyad Era. Next stop: the `Abbāsids, under whom Aristotle is reborn in Islamic guise to battle with both rational theologians and scholars of jurisprudence—the golden age of Islamic philosophy and theology.


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Why pearls, and why strung at random?

In his translation of the famous "Turk of Shirazghazal of Hafez into florid English, Sir William Jones, the philologist and Sanskrit scholar and polyglot extraordinaire, transformed the following couplet:

غزل گفتی و در سفتی بیا و خوش بخوان حافظ

که بر نظم تو افشاند فلک عقد ثریا را


into:

Go boldly forth, my simple lay,
Whose accents flow with artless ease,
Like orient pearls at random strung.

The "translation" is terribly inaccurate, but worse, the phrase is a gross misrepresentation of the highly structured organization of Persian poetry. Regardless, I picked it as the name of my blog for a number of reasons: 
1) I don't expect the ordering of my posts to follow any rhyme or reason
2) Since "at random strung" is a rather meaningless phrase, I decided to go with the longer but more pompous "pearls at random strung". I rest assured that my readers are unlikely to deduce from this an effort on my part to arrogate some of Hafez's peerless brilliance!

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Cambridge, Massachusetts, United States
What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
—W.H. Davies, “Leisure”