The Formation of Post-Classical Philosophy in Islam

A simple version of Frank Griffel’s aim in The Formation of Post-Classical Philosophy in Islam is to systematically refute a commonplace assumption that still thrives in certain corners of Islamic studies, especially in popular publications in the field, viz., “al-Ghazālī as the destroyer of philosophy in Islam” (6). But this wouldn’t do justice to this tour-de-force monograph. A more complicated rendering is that philosophy in Islam should not be reduced to falsafa—which refers merely to Avicennism (the Islamic reception and refraction of Aristotelian philosophy). Rather, particularly in the late 12^th-century Islamic east, there emerged the traditions of ḥikma (wisdom, post-classical philosophy) and of kalām (rational theology) that integrated “philosophical arguments and methods” (567) but whose conclusions were not in agreement with Avicenna’s. Philosophy lives on through these two traditions well into the 19^th and 20^th centuries.

Indeed many Orientalists of those centuries argued that there was a clash between “reason” (i.e., falsafa) and “revelation” (i.e., the revealed truths of the Qur’ān) during the classical period, leaving revelation victorious and precipitating the decline of philosophy and reason in Islam. However, Griffel reminds us that this clash was rather “between different readings of revelation and between different ways of arguing philosophically” (13). True, the immediate successors of al-Ghazālī either followed him or Avicenna in their conclusions. However, fewer than 100 years after al-Ghazālī, Griffel notes authors who “composed works in kalām”  and “in ḥikma,” wherein they improve on Avicenna’s philosophy (13). That is, a single author, such as Fakhr al-Dīn al-Rāzī, wrote books both in ḥikma—“consciously” and intentionally receiving and developing the discourse of falsafa—and also in kalām—employing methodological tools different from ḥikma and even coming to disparate conclusions on the same topic (13).

To my knowledge, Griffel’s monograph is the first attempt to write the earliest history of post-classical philosophy in Islam. This history includes socio-political contexts, biographies, manuscript traditions, and commentarial legacies, as well as methods, content, teachings, and conclusions of post-classical philosophical texts and their authors. Griffel is clear that his temporal context ends at the turn of the 13^th century. In addition to al-Rāzī and al-Ghazālī, Griffel’s other main subjects are Abū l-Barakāt al-Baghdādī, Yaḥyā al-Suhrawardī, and Sharaf al-Dīn al-Maʿsūdī. However, Griffel engages nearly twenty other authors from the 12^th century and inventories an impressive list of these other texts in a ten-page section at the beginning of the bibliography.

For the past two decades, many have refuted the idea of “the decline of philosophy in Islam.” However, Griffel’s monograph is exceptional for two reasons: 1) he collates, synthesizes, and critically engages the material and theses scattered throughout recent scholarship; and 2) he adds his own novel conclusions from his research that spans a number of primary sources. Griffel writes the history of the study of post-classical Islamic intellectual history by mapping the scholarly trajectories and conclusions of 19^th- and early 20^th-century Orientalists. However, his most important task is to rewrite the history of the first century of post-classical philosophy in Islam—a history that corrects the persistent thesis of its alleged decline. This will be a resource for scholars and future students for decades to come.

First, Griffel writes, during the 12^th century many Muslim scholars of ḥikma and post-classical kalam are referring to stalwart followers of both classical falsafa and classical kalām as blind imitators (muqallid) who merely repeat the arguments of either tradition without testing them against reason. For these authors, blind imitation (taqlīd) of the conclusions of the falāsifa or of those who rejected them—is the issue, not necessarily employing their arguments or methods (491ff, 502ff). At times falsafa is described as a religious tradition like Islam, Christianity, and Judaism (80). Elsewhere, faylasūf (philosopher) in the post-classical period becomes a pejorative term for someone who slavishly follows Avicenna, whereas a “ḥakīm [someone who practices ḥikma] was someone who had also studied al-Ghazālī’s critique of Avicenna and reacted to that” (559) by improving upon the arguments and methods of the philosophers.

Second, Griffel notes, one of the main authors bridging the classical with the post-classical is Abū l-Barakāt al-Baghdādī. Griffel translates a passage in which Ibn al-Malāḥimī claims that those who practice philosophy become “loving brothers,” be they Jewish, Muslim, Christian, or Zoroastrian (203-204). He suggests that al-Baghdādī was “the reanimator of philosophy in the . . . twelfth century” and that his status as a self-taught Jew who did not engage in Muslim higher education is a “crucial factor” (562).

Third, Griffel effectively wrestles with whether and how scholars should apply Western categories—“philosopher,” “theologian”—to an Islamic context. Why bother with imposing etic terms? Perhaps we should just keep emic, untranslated categories and refer to these post-classical authors as ḥukamā’ and mutakallimūn, rather than translate them as “philosophers” and “theologians,” respectively. He admits that this is the most accurate position, but it “fails . . . whenever we are asked to answer to a non-academic audience whether there was philosophy in Islam after 1200” (570).  

Fourth, Griffel provides insights into how a single author could write both books of ḥikma arguing for a God that acts out of necessity and for a pre-eternal world and books of kalām arguing for a God that acts from free will and for the temporal creation of the world. These conclusions are mutually opposed and so we are left to conclude that al-Rāzī believed that both conclusions are, “equally possible” (553). This suggests that absolutist positions were not required of Muslim scholars and their readers.

Fifth, Griffel uses Talal Asad's concept of a "discursive tradition," which connects conceptually to the past and future through current practices. He argues that simply using rational arguments or philosophical methods doesn't make them part of Islam's philosophical tradition; the author must seek to contribute to the tradition by engaging with its past forms. In other words, stated authorial intention and volition matter.

What happened to post-classical philosophy in Islam? Griffel contends that the discipline of ḥikma was studied and practiced in madrasas (Islamic educational institutions) into the 19^th and even 20^th centuries, but with the emergence of colonial institutions the discipline was erased. Western books on philosophy slowly replaced books on ḥikma from the curricula and libraries (571). There remains a vibrant and living discursive tradition of ḥikma in Iran.

While Griffel’s monograph will certainly appeal to scholars of Islamic intellectual history, it should not be ignored by scholars of religion for these reasons, among others.

Axel M. Oaks Takacs is an assistant professor of theology and religious studies at Molloy University.

Axel Marc Oaks Takács

Date Of Review:

March 25, 2024