ISLAMIC HISTORY IS full of critical voices and freethinkers who provide us with a totally different take on Islam. This rich and diverse history goes right back to the formative phase of Islam. Those who believe that Muslims can't think may be surprised to discover that it was the Muslims who lived during the eighth to twelfth centuries who taught the West how to think.
The rational tradition of Islam derives its inspiration from the fundamental sources of Islam - the Qur'an and the actions and sayings of the Prophet Muhammad. The emphasis the Qur'an gives to reasoning and critical thought is not widely recognised. The Sacred Text is saturated with references to reflection, criticism, learning, education, observation and the use of reason. Indeed, the very essence of the Qur'an, and hence of Islam, is summed up in the first verse of the Qur'an revealed to the Prophet Muhammad on the fateful night of 27 Ramadan 611:
Read: In the Name of thy Lord who created,
Created Man of a blood-clot.
Read: And thy Lord is the Most Generous
Who taught by the Pen
Taught Man, that he knew not. (96:1-5)
What one is exhorted to read are the 'signs of God', which are manifest both in the revelation and in the material world. The Qur'an presents the cosmos as a 'text' that can be read, explored and understood with the use of reason: 'in the alternation of night and day, in the rain God provides, sending it down from the sky and reviving the dead earth with it, and in His shifting of winds there are signs for those who use their reason' (45:5). Thus, reason is the path to salvation: 'And they shall say, had we but listened or used reason, we would not be among the inmates of the burning fire' (67:10); reason is not something you set aside to have faith, it is the means to attaining faith, a tool of discovery and an instrument for getting close to God. 'The Pen', which has the most exalted place in Islam, is a metaphor for thought, reflection, criticism, the study of nature, the material world and general pursuit of knowledge. The Qur'an makes a distinction between 'those who have knowledge and those who have no knowledge' (39:9); and repeatedly asks the believers to think for themselves and study the signs of nature.
The Prophetic traditions supplement these teachings of the Qur'an. 'The ink of the scholar', the Prophet is reported to have said, 'is more sacred than the blood of the martyr.' He also said: 'Seek knowledge from the cradle to the grave'; 'An hour's study of nature is better than a year's adoration'; 'To listen to the words of the learned and to instil unto others the lessons of knowledge is better than religious exercise'; and 'Acquire knowledge: it enables its possessor to distinguish right from the wrong; it lights the way to Heaven; it is our friend in the desert, our society in solitude, our companion when friendless; it guides us to happiness; it sustains us in misery; it is an ornament among friends and an armour against enemies.'
The critical and freethinking tradition of Islam is based on these teachings. It began just over a hundred years after the death of the Prophet. During this period, there was no such thing as the Shariah, nor indeed was there an authentic collection of hadith. A century would pass before the first and most authentic collection, Sahih al-Bukhari, would emerge, and another century would pass after that before the Shariah would be codified. Grandchildren of the companions of the Prophet were still alive. Some of them, the story goes, were sitting in a mosque in Basra, Iraq, listening to a lecture by Hasan al-Basri (642-728). A scholar and theologian, al-Basri was highly respected, not least because he was brought up in the house of the Prophet's wife Umm Salama. He knew many companions of the Prophet and was famous for his austerity and piety. Amongst the students listening attentively to his lecture, sitting in a circle around him, were two young thinkers: Wasil ibn Ata (700-748) and Amr ibn Ubayd (d. 762). When al-Basri finished his lecture, Wasil asked him: is a person who has committed a sin a believer or an unbeliever? After a pause, al-Basri replied that he remains a believer. But, Wasil shot back, there is a third option: he is neither a believer nor an unbeliever, a position between two positions. Al-Basri was not particularly happy either with the third option or with Wasil's insubordination.
Now, both the question and the answer have a context. During the eighth century, the Kharjites, whom we met in Part I, were still around. They were ever ready to declare those who had committed a sin unbelievers and apostates who could therefore be killed. So al-Basri was being liberal and accommodating in his reply. Wasil, Amr and their fellow freethinkers had another concern. A great deal of what they were being taught was based on arguments from authority, which, they rightly deduced, can lead to political tyranny. They were being asked to blindly follow their forefathers. It is not that they did not trust their forefathers, or regarded them as irrational, or thought they were wrong. Their position was based on the verses of the Qur'an that ask the believers to question the ways and authority of their forefathers who sometimes 'do not know' and 'are only guessing': 'We saw our fathers following this tradition; we are guided by their footsteps' (43:22-23). Hasan al-Basri's freethinking students also thought that true knowledge comes from the clash of arguments.
Thus, the teacher and some of his students had a dispute. It is interesting to note that the Qur'an often uses 'reason' in juxtaposition with 'listening' (as in 67:10, quoted above). Every reasoned argument has a counter-argument. While understanding comes from reasoning, it does not come from reasoning alone. We are also required to listen to the counter-argument and take it into consideration in our reasoning process. But al-Basri was in no mood to listen. As a result, Wasil and Amr, along with a few other students, withdrew from al-Basri's circle. The professor then announced to the remaining students that 'Wasil has withdrawn from us'. Historical accounts of this story vary slightly - some suggest that it was Amr who withdrew and not Wasil, others suggest that the withdrawal did not take place during the lecture but much later - but the overall gist of the story is the same.
The Mutazilites
The followers of Wasil and Amr came to be known as the Mutazilites - 'those who have withdrawn'. The movement they established, belonging to Sunni Islam, argued that Islamic theology should be based on reason and rational thought. Their overall position was based on five principles: God's justice, God's unity, the 'intermediate position' between two extremes (Wasil's third option), God's irreversible threats and promises, and God's commanding what is right and prohibiting what is wrong. These principles amounted to responses to their various rivals. These rivals included the literalists, who saw everything in black and white; the determinists, who believed in predestination and argued against free will; and the traditionalists, who relied excessively on the hadith. While reason played a vital part in Mutazila thought, it was much more than straightforward logical deduction. Reasoning had to lead to salvation and, as such, the question of 'how' a goal is achieved had to be considered with 'why' it is sought in the first place and whether it 'ought' to be pursued at all. But the Mutazila were not just rationalists: they were also humanists. They believed in free will and human agency - both to interpret the sacred sources and to shape the material world - and in freedom and progress based on evidence, empiricism and critical thinking. Amongst them were certain thinkers we would nowadays describe as 'secular humanists', but most were strong believers in God. And they were totally devoted to social justice.
There were three aspects of the moral philosophy of the Mutazila that were deeply problematic for the wider community of Muslim scholars and thinkers. The first was related to their notion of divine justice. The Mutazila argued that the conventional, traditionalist position that whatever God commands is intrinsically good and what He forbids is inherently wrong makes a mockery of divine justice. It reduces human beings into automata with little to do but follow God's commands - or, more appropriately, what certain people think is the will of God and wish to impose on others. Rather, they argued, human beings should be able to rationally determine what is right and what is wrong and then freely choose their actions.
The second controversial aspect was the argument that only God's essence is eternal. When we think of God, they suggested, we think of Him in human terms; we can do nothing else. We think of Him as a Just and Merciful God, an Omnipresent and Omnipotent God, somewhere in the Heavens. But these are human notions based on our limited capability - they are not the same as God and cannot be eternal.
The third problem arose from their argument that the Qur'an, the Word of God, was created, that the revelation to Muhammad was an event in history and thus had a historical context. This had a particular theological significance: it meant that the Qur'an had to be interpreted in the light of history; its verses could only be understood by examining the social and cultural context within which they were revealed. As such, not...
