Vous êtes sur la page 1sur 5

Ars Disputandi

Volume 8 (2008)
: 1566–5399

Allan Bäck The Cambridge Companion to Arabic


 , 
Philosophy
Edited by P. Adamson & R. Taylor

Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005; xviii + 448 pp; hb.


£ 50.00, pb. £ 19.90, ebook $ 26.00; :
978–0–521–81743–1/978–0–521–52069–0/978–0–511–22194–1.

Yet another handbook. There already have appeared several handbooks or


histories on Arabic philosophy in the past decade (and more to come, putatively:
as I have written a piece on logic for yet another one from another publisher).
Indeed, some of the authors contributing to this volume have written in some
of those already published. Has the state of research become so changed and so
improved? Or, more pertinently, have publishers figured out that in these days of
tightened library budgets, a general handbook tends to have priority over more
specialized treatises in the funding wars?
Does then this Cambridge Companion to Arabic Philosophy have something
distinctive to offer? Its organization resembles quite, quite strongly that of the
Routledge History of Islamic Philosophy, ed. S. Nasr & O. Leaman (London, 1996;
paperback ed. 2001), xx + 1211pp. That History is intended as a supplementary
volume to the Routledge History of Philosophy (1993) which deals with Western
Philosophy—rather like the recent supplementary volumes for the rival Encyclo-
pedia of Philosophy. The Routledge one is written in the style of the Cambridge
Histories of Philosophy. So I guess that turn-about is fair play.
In a review of this Routledge History for Traditio, I wrote the following:
Using this book as a general reference source has some drawbacks. Many of
the discussions are written from specialists’ viewpoints (that do not always
agree!), although some effort has been made to make them accessible, e.g.,
by having the Arabic terms listed with English translations in the ‘Index of
Terms’. The book also has some editorial problems: e.g., duplicate passages.
[441 & 489] Again, this History could use a general, consolidated Bibliography,
instead of having separate ones mostly at the end of each Chapter.
In contrast, this Cambridge Companion does have a general bibliography and no
duplicate passages, although it does have overlap in its expositions. However, it
does share some of these problems: some of the chapters do not provide a general
overview but spend most of the time focusing on a single aspect of a single text of a
single author. For instance, Tony Street in the ‘Logic’ chapter focuses on Avicenna
– rightly so, given his permanent importance – but there mostly on the single
issue, how he deals in the Qı̄yās with Aristotle’s claim that a necessary conclusion

c August 6, 2008, Ars Disputandi. If you would like to cite this article, please do so as follows:

Allan Bäck, ‘Review of The Cambridge Companion to Arabic Philosophy,’ Ars Disputandi [http://www.ArsDisputandi.
org] 8 (2008), 88–92.
Allan Bäck: Review of The Cambridge Companion to Arabic Philosophy

follows from a Barbara syllogism having a necessary major and a categorical


minor premise (IANANA). [256-62] Those without much background will find
his discussion hard going; I did somewhat myself—even though I’ve published a
paper or two on this (not cited by Street). One might ask: why this focus? If I had
to choose a single logical issue on which to focus – for Avicenna and for Arabic
philosophy in general – I would pick the modality of necessity and possibility,
given the conception of God as the necessary being. However, Wisnovsky had
already discussed modality in an earlier chapter on Avicenna. [116–9] So why
not instead: Avicenna’s theory of predication, his theory of demonstration, his
treatment of the categories, or his immense dialectics—all of which I find rather
original and less specialized.
I should note that some of Street’s general claims are questionable. In giving
a survey of Islamic logic, he focuses on the Shamsiyya of al-Kātibı̄, ‘a lovely little
textbook’, used in the religious schools, the madrasa, for centuries. [250] Yet this
is like writing a history of modern logic by focusing on the Port-Royal Logic or on
Copi’s Introduction to Logic! We get no idea whether Islamic logic had degenerated
into a Panglossian scholasticism or whether there continued to be real advances
in logical theory.
Other chapters are more even-handed: Adamson on Al-Kindı̄, Riesman
on Al-Fārābı̄, Butterworth on political theory—although Riesman does admit
slighting logic, due to there not being much research on it. I should note that
many of the authors are not philosophers. Perhaps this too accounts for their
interest in theology, political theory, and psychology more than on the logic.
Occasionally the authors disagree. Wisnovsky speaks of the ‘Ammonian
synthesis’, of the doctrines of Plato and Aristotle. [97–8] D’Ancona suggests that
this was already done by Proclus—or perhaps, others might say, by Plotinus. [16]
Anyway although Al-Fārābı̄ follows Ammonius in logical matters such as the
square of opposition and in Neoplatonism, Avicenna doesn’t. Perhaps we are
losing sight of the originality of Arabic philosophy.
This Cambridge Companion does do better than the Routledge History in terms
of its space allocations. Despite its much greater length and the general agreement
of the former’s key importance for nearly all later Islamic philosophers, the latter
has only 20 pages on Avicenna and 59 pages on the Kabbalistic Al-Hamdānı̄,
whereas this one has 44 pages on Avicenna and nothing on Al-Hamdānı̄. The
Companion then is focussing on philosophy in a stricter and more technical sense,
which I find more accurate historically.
Also I find that the editors, Peter Adamson and Richard Taylor, have some
justification in calling the material ‘Arabic philosophy’ and not ‘Islamic (etc.) phi-
losophy’. [3] As they note, not all of those writing in this tradition were Muslims;
others like Al-Fārābı̄ and Al-Rāzı̄ were nominally, but thought, like Plato, that re-
ligion is for the masses and not for those able to do philosophy. Yet most of them
wrote in Arabic. They are willing then to call Maimonides an Arabic philosopher,
as he wrote his philosophical works in Arabic – but still don’t give him a chapter
– and talk of ‘Jewish philosophy’. [3; 350–3] Of course, the appellation of ‘Arabic
philosophy’ has its problems too: most ‘Arabic philosophers’ were not Arabs but

Ars Disputandi [http://www.ArsDisputandi.org] 8 (2008) | 89


Allan Bäck: Review of The Cambridge Companion to Arabic Philosophy

Persians etc. Indeed some of them wrote in Persian—Avicenna for instance. I


tend to favour Lenn Goodman’s conception of ‘Islamic philosophy’ as something
like ‘a philosophical inquiry informed by the texts, traditions and experiences of
Muslims’—or better yet to avoid the ethnicity. (Yet that is another topic.)
Although not too explicitly, this Companion seems organized relative to the
current scholarly view that Islamic culture had different traditions in religion,
based on the Kalām and in philosophy, based on the Greek, before Avicenna.
[6; 109–111] It maintains that Avicenna’s system, combined with his mystical
treatises, unified the two for most of his successors. They did not necessarily
agree with his doctrines, especially on his rejection of God’s knowledge of future
contingents and of the Resurrection of the flesh. Still the later followers of the
Kalām were also followers of Avicenna—although Western scholars have ignored
this until recently. [113]
I should note that in a way this view is not new. Corbin had long ago
noted a shift in Islamic culture from philosophy proper to a ‘theosophy’ relying
heavily on mystical insight. [Cf. 204–7; 226] Mullā S.adrā and Suhrawardı̄ wrote
treatises describing the angelic realm. Whether such claims be meant literally or
metaphorically (‘imaginally’ as Corbin put it), it’s hard to see its place in a scientific
metaphysics. This is the flip side of the current view: not that theology moves
over to philosophy, but that philosophy is transformed into theology or some
sort of religious discourse. Of course, on this view the philosophical tradition
proper has degenerated. Perhaps this is not politically correct to say these days
– we are supposed to say that all philosophical traditions have equal value? –
but then people do say it about Latin medieval scholasticism even earlier than
the Renaissance. Hossein Ziai certainly protests against Corbin’s views. [405]
Yet he is forced to admit that, so far as we know today, Arabic philosophers in
the modern period had little interest in logic and a lot in rehashing theological
disputes. [417; 420] Paul Walker likewise protests a bit too much that the early
Ismā’ı̄lı̄ movement is really, really philosophical. [73; 89] Likewise John Walbridge
protests in the case of Suhrawardı̄, but admits that the defence will have to wait.
[201 n.2; 204; 212] (He doesn’t increase his philosophical appeal by saying, ‘When
properties are made into nouns. . . ’ [211]) Michael Marmura is more even-handed
with Al-Ghazālı̄: he admits the theological and mystic base but then points out
that, in defending it, Ghazālı̄ comes up with some interesting arguments about
causality. [153; 143-5] In any event, this Companion doesn’t make a case for the
philosophical excellence and originality of Arabic philosophy in its later centuries.
The discussions do give valuable historical background and a survey of
the general doctrines. Yet, too often for an introductory handbook, the authors
leave off doing this for the sake of pushing the views that they are themselves
developing in their own research. Thus Wisnovsky has an interesting discussion
of some of the source of Avicenna’s distinction between essence and existence.
(He is summarizing his research in Avicenna’s Metaphysics in Context (London:
Duckworth, 2003), 9; 147–64; 179.) He then proceeds to claim that Avicenna has
muddled things up due to a shifting terminology [108–9; so too 341]; he never
gets around to an explicit statement of the threefold distinction of quiddity (triplex

Ars Disputandi [http://www.ArsDisputandi.org] 8 (2008) | 90


Allan Bäck: Review of The Cambridge Companion to Arabic Philosophy

status naturae), which came to have much importance in medieval philosophy.


[109; so too 338] (Oh, where is Goichon?)
I find some of the more specialized discussions frustrating. There isn’t
space here to work them out fully; what is presented may have big lacunae.
For instance, Wisnovsky accuses Avicenna of muddling the distinction between
different conceptions of necessity. However he doesn’t cite Avicenna’s explicit
definitions for them. ‘Necessity’ in the logical sense is d.arūri, as opposed to the
physical necessity signified by wajūb. [Cf. Al-‘Ibāra, ed. M. El-Khodeiri (Cairo,
1970), 119,1–8; Al-Qı̄yās, ed. S. Zayed (Cairo, 1964), 166,16; 168,8–10; 169,16.] Also
he omits discussing some of the important Greek sources. [Posterior Analytics
I.4; Sophist] Thus, like the other authors, he makes many claims on the relative
originality of the Arabic materials, without enough consideration of the Greek
sources. [E.g., cf. 211 with Posterior Analytics II.1–3]
Richard Taylor gives an account of Averroes that makes him a philosopher
first and foremost. [186; 197] Religious texts are to be judged by philosophical
standards. Still Averroes allows for higher religious mysteries, like God’s knowl-
edge of singulars in a way beyond human cognition. [187–8] Does this amount to
philosophical dialectic or the fallacy ad ignorantiam? Averroes won’t come off as a
very profound philosopher but one in Frege’s ‘Shiva’ cult.1 In any case, as Taylor
indicates rather sketchily in his notes, there are many other current estimations
of the position of Averroes. Taylor perhaps makes Averroes more original than
he was on the intellect. [192–4] A lot of this doctrine can be found in Alexander
of Aphrodisias, and, yes, even in Avicenna. In a general Companion this should
be noted. Likewise perhaps with Deborah Black’s account of abstraction and
the active intellect: I can find much of this doctrine already in Aristotle and in
Alexander’s Mantissa. [312; 322]
Again perhaps the authors should have made more of the influence of these
Arabic philosophers on the Latin West. I do not see Montada mentioning the
prominent novel by Scaliger, based on the work by Ibn Tufayl. There is some
discussion of the influence on Averroes on the Renaissance. [182 n.4; 197; 385;
398] Still it might perhaps be worth mentioning also that his commentaries sup-
plemented Aristotle’s texts in many major universities during that period. Still
Marwan Rashed does quite well though in his account of physical theory. He
highlights two main innovations: a theory of atomism in the Kalām where the
atoms are construed as mathematical points of infinite cardinality with instanta-
neous leaps between them, and Avicenna’s theory of infinitesimals. [292; 302]
Such doctrines came to have a long history, even in the West with Galileo and
Leibniz. [296; 293]
The Bibliography has some interesting materials but is not comprehensive.
It certainly does not meet the high standards of the earlier Cambridge Companion to
Aristotle! Unlike the Routledge History mentioned above, the Index does not give
the Arabic for most of its English entries nor is it comprehensive (E.g., the entries
1. ‘Draft Towards a Review of Cantor’s. . . .’ in Posthumous Writings, ed. H. Hermes et al.
(Chicago, 1979), 69.

Ars Disputandi [http://www.ArsDisputandi.org] 8 (2008) | 91


Allan Bäck: Review of The Cambridge Companion to Arabic Philosophy

for ‘Corbin’).
In short: a decent handbook, on the history and the doctrines of Islamic
philosophy, with a focus on research ongoing today. I don’t think that it would
motivate philosophers who aren’t historically inclined to think Arabic material
profound or interesting. Unless you are a specialist, you probably don’t need this
history if you already have another recent one.

Ars Disputandi [http://www.ArsDisputandi.org] 8 (2008) | 92

Vous aimerez peut-être aussi