The world of Islam in the heyday of Muʿtazilite Kalām (the eighth to twelfth centuries) was a melting pot of ideas, concepts, thoughts, and faiths. It was the result of a rare encounter of various religions, cultures, nations, streams, and languages and occurred under the special circumstances of this particular time and place. This period was the Golden Age of Muslim thought.Footnote 1 The study of Kalām Muslim theology underlines two central aspects in its development: the influence of ideas and thoughts originating in other religious communities – Judaism and Christianity in particular; and the role of the Muʿtazila school in introducing those thoughts into Muslim theology, their adaptation and their merging – together with Islamic principles and original genuine ideas – into a comprehensive Islamic theological system.Footnote 2
One of the cornerstones in this theological system is the concept of tawḥīd, i.e. divine unity. The belief in one God is the basis of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. Therefore, it is not surprising that the concept of tawḥīd was a key element in the interreligious theological discourse of the Islamic Golden Age and was an acceptable starting point for interreligious debates. The purpose of this paper is to investigate the origins of the Kalām discussion regarding the concept of tawḥīd.
As one may expect, the dynamics between the same two aspects in the development of Kalām Muslim theology – the influence of foreign religions and the role of the Muʿtazila in shaping the theological discourse – are substantial also in scholarly research concerning the evolution of the discussion on the concept of tawḥīd.
More than 30 years ago, Shlomo Pines pointed out the existence of a model of discussion, common in Kalām treatises.Footnote 3 This model comprised the following elements:
1) a “demonstration that the existence of the world entails the conclusion that God exists.” One of the arguments common in Kalām treatises in this context is the mutability of all things;
2) a discussion concerning the nature of God, which includes, inter alia, proofs of God's unity and the doctrine of the divine attributes; and
3) a portrait of Man – his freedom of will and of action.Footnote 4
About 20 years later, Ulrich Rudolph identified a variation of this model in Kitāb al-Tawḥīd written by Abū Manṣūr al-Māturīdī al-Samarqandī (d. 944) – a notable Ḥanafī theologian and jurist, “founder of a doctrinal school which later came to be considered one of the two orthodox Sunnī schools of Kalām,” still popular today in Turkey and other places where the Ḥanafī school of law is followed.Footnote 5 According to Rudolph, the structure of the first half of this book is very similar to the one common in early Kalām. In fact, this was the structure of the argumentation by which the Muʿtazilites had dealt with the first principle of their theology, namely the tawḥīd. Muʿtazilite theology was based on five principles, al-uṣūl al-khams: divine unity (al-tawḥīd); divine justice (al-ʿadl); promise and threat (al-waʿd wa-al-waʿīd); the intermediate position (manzila bayna al-manzilatayn), and commanding the good and forbidding the evil (al-amr bi-al-maʿrūf wa-al-nahy ʿan al-munkar).
The similarity between the model of the tawḥīd principle in Muʿtazilite literature and the discussion in the first half of Kitāb al-Tawḥīd is evident, according to Rudolph, in stylistic aspects, the selection of topics, and their order of presentation, as well as in content, as reflected in the argumentation. The first half of Māturīdī's book constitutes a complete unit. Therefore, in Rudolph's opinion, Māturīdī had necessarily drawn its structural model from a single source. Because of the dependence on the Muʿtazilite model of tawḥīd, he argues that this source could only be a Muʿtazilite text.Footnote 6
Although it is obvious that Māturīdī had dedicated a significant part of his work to the refutation of the Muʿtazila, it seems that in Kitāb al-Tawḥīd the dispute with the Muʿtazila was not in fact one of his main concerns. Muʿtazilite views are mentioned in this book almost exclusively in comparison with other beliefs and religions (Ibn Shabīb, Dahriyya, Aṣḥāb al-hayūlā, Dualism, etc.).Footnote 7
Rudolph examines the question as to what extent Māturīdī was influenced by his opponents, who are mentioned explicitly in the book. In the first half of Kitāb al-Tawḥīd, Māturīdī mentions four Muslim theologians by name. Each one of them appears in relation to a specific question: al-Kaʿbī (d. 931)Footnote 8 is associated with the problem of God's attributes – attributes of action and attributes of essence (pp. 49–53); speech (pp. 53–9); God's choice (p. 60); the place of God (pp. 75–6), and the vision of God (pp. 82–5).Footnote 9 The second theologian, al-Ḥusayn b. Muḥammad al-Najjār (d. c. 835/844),Footnote 10 is mentioned regarding the question “Why was the world created?” (p. 99)Footnote 11 and with regard to the wisdom in command and prohibition (p. 100).Footnote 12 The third, Muḥammad b. Shabīb (who apparently flourished in the first half of the ninth century),Footnote 13 is referenced regarding the denial of the eternity of the world and questions concerning the creator and the act of creation (pp. 123–35);Footnote 14 proofs of the creation of the world (pp. 137–41);Footnote 15 denial of the belief in eternity, elements, the stars, and the prime matter (pp. 141–52);Footnote 16 and Sophism (pp. 153–6).Footnote 17 The fourth, Ibn al-Rāwandī (d. c. 860/912),Footnote 18 is mentioned with reference to his dispute with Abū ʿĪsā al-Warrāq (d. c. 861 or towards the end of the ninth century),Footnote 19 his Manichaean teacher, about prophecy (pp. 186–202).Footnote 20
Rudolph presents al-Kaʿbī, Ibn Shabīb, and Ibn al-Rāwandī as Muʿtazilites, but even from his account it appears that the ideological affiliation of at least two of them is not quite clear.
Thus, he says that Ibn Shabīb sided with Murjiʾa views concerning certain theological questions, therefore became notorious among his Muʿtazilite fellows. In extra-Muʿtazilite texts he is defined as Murjiʾī, and the Muʿtazilite tradition itself is divided in its attitude towards him. Among the Muʿtazilite writers there are some who underestimate the importance of his Murjiʾite tendency, while other recommend ostracizing him from the school. According to Rudolph, Māturīdī accused Ibn Shabīb of belonging to the Muʿtazila circle, and he did not withhold from criticizing him. However, this criticism was proffered in a much more moderate tone than his severe attacks against al-Kaʿbī. In Rudolph's opinion, the seeming inclination of Ibn Shabīb towards the Murjiʾa is in fact what gave him respect. Surely Māturīdī did not consider him an ally, yet he presented him in a positive light.Footnote 21
Regarding Ibn al-Rāwandī, Rudolph reports that he was considered a heretic in Iraq as a result of strife within the Muʿtazila circle of Baghdad. The impact of that conflict spread beyond the boundaries of Baghdad. Since people used to follow the Iraqi tradition in many areas of the Islamic territories, Ibn al-Rāwandī was considered a heretic in a wide range of places. In Samarqand, however, people saw things differently: Ibn al-Rāwandī was regarded as a defender of Islam, owing to the fact that he challenged Abū ʿĪsā al-Warrāq and proved the necessity of prophecy. Rudolph argues that in Māturīdī's eyes, al-Warrāq was the true heretic because he had denied the existence of prophecy, whereas Ibn al-Rāwandī was the one to expose the Manichaean beliefs of al-Warrāq and to refute his arguments. Māturīdī was so impressed by Ibn al-Rāwandī's criticism of al-Warrāq that in his own book he adopted Ibn al-Rāwandī's rational method of proving prophecy in spite of his being a Muʿtazilite and although he was condemned by the people of his very own school.Footnote 22
The image of Ibn al-Rāwandī in Kitāb al-Tawḥīd remains controversial in modern scholarship. Various attempts have been made to reconcile Ibn al-Rāwandī's bad reputation, as it appears in most of the Muslim sources, with his positive presentation by Māturīdī. Al-Warrāq is described in the sources as consistently denying the existence of prophecy, while Ibn al-Rāwandī is presented sometimes as denying its existence and at other times as making it obligatory. In Kitāb al-Tawḥīd, Ibn al-Rāwandī appears as a defender of prophecy, responding to al-Warrāq's words that disprove it.Footnote 23
In her book on the freethinkers of medieval Islam, Sarah Stroumsa summarizes the various scholarly positions regarding Ibn al-Rāwandī and his Kitāb al-Zumurrud (The Book of the Emerald).Footnote 24 Through a comparative analysis of the sources, she offers, in a rather convincing way, her solution to the question of Ibn al-Rāwandī's heresy: She strengthens Josef van Ess's hypothesis that Māturīdī derived the dialogue passages between al-Warrāq and Ibn al-Rāwandī from the latter's Kitāb al-Zumurrud against prophecy, even though he did not refer to this book by name.Footnote 25 Stroumsa says that Māturīdī's book is “the only early source in which Ibn al-Rāwandī appears as a good Muslim in the context of the discussion of prophecy.” It is also “the source which most clearly shows the role of Abū ʿĪsā al-Warrāq in the Zumurrud as well as his Manichean beliefs.” Māturīdī, she argues,
lived in Samarkand, where in the tenth century Manicheism was still considered a real threat to Islam. The interest of the Zumurrud for Māturīdī lay in the fact that in this book, the Manichean al-Warrāq denies the existence of prophecy. For Māturīdī, the urgent task was to attack the Manichean al-Warrāq rather than to unmask the real face of Ibn al-Rāwandī.Footnote 26
Stroumsa further assumes that the dialogue between al-Warrāq and Ibn al-Rāwandī, as it appears in Kitāb al-Tawḥīd, “reflects their collegiality as well as their disagreements.” It shows “the process of discussion by which al-Warrāq persuaded Ibn al-Rāwandī to reject prophetic religions, as well as Ibn al-Rāwandī's refusal to see Manicheism as an exception.”Footnote 27 Stroumsa's conjecture is that “like many Kalām debates, this one too ended with one of the participants admitting defeat,” i.e. “Ibn al-Rāwandī's ultimate rejection of the existence of prophecy.”Footnote 28
Thus, Stroumsa's arguments confirm two basic assumptions: first, that Ibn al-Rāwandī was not necessarily associated with the Muʿtazila when he wrote his Kitāb al-Zumurrud; and second, that the Kitāb al-Zumurrud was in front of Māturīdī when he wrote the chapter that deals with prophecy in his Kitāb al-Tawḥīd.
Rudolph rejects the first assumption. The dependence of Kitāb al-Tawḥīd on the Muʿtazilite model of tawḥīd leads him to believe, as mentioned above, that the source of the book was necessarily a Muʿtazilite text – hence his insistence on seeing Ibn al-Rāwandī as well as Ibn Shabīb as Muʿtazilites.
This being said, Rudolph agrees with the second assumption. As he himself indicates, it is known that the question of the necessity of prophecy had preoccupied Ibn al-Rāwandī, and he concludes that the description in Māturīdī's book is nothing but an elaboration of Ibn al-Rāwandī's text. He mentions the names of several of Ibn al-Rāwandī's treatises that are known to have been dedicated to prophecy and therefore may have served as Māturīdī's source for this topic.Footnote 29
On the other hand, Māturīdī relies on Ibn Shabīb in the section devoted to the debate with the unbelievers in his book. Yet, we are not aware of any specific composition by Ibn Shabīb regarding the debate with the unbelievers that could have served as Māturīdī's source. In our sources, only one book he wrote is mentioned explicitly – Kitāb al-Tawḥīd. According to Rudolph, however, it is reasonable to assume that like Māturīdī's book, Ibn Shabīb's Kitāb al-Tawḥīd also included a refutation of the unbelievers. Unfortunately, this book is not extant.Footnote 30
Rudolph suggests Ibn Shabīb's Kitāb al-Tawḥīd as a Muʿtazilite text that may have served as a model for Māturīdī's own book. He bases his hypothesis on two premises. The first premise is that the structural model of the discussion should have already been established when Māturīdī began writing. It is known that Ibn Shabīb was a disciple of al-Naẓẓām in the first half of the ninth century; it is therefore possible that his book was written before Māturīdī's. Second, the doctrine of religious knowledge Māturīdī presents at the beginning of Kitāb al-Tawḥīd is based on formerly established elements, and it does not include definitions that were popular among the Muʿtazila of his generation (al-Kaʿbī for instance). Therefore, according to Rudolph, Māturīdī is relying here on a former Muʿtazilite source.Footnote 31
A question should be asked: If this hypothesis is true, why did Māturīdī have to refer to Ibn Shabīb's beliefs concerning one question only and was not tempted to mention, not even incidentally (especially given the assumption that the Muʿtazila indeed was not his top priority in this book), his views on other issues though his book supposedly dealt with all the questions that were discussed in Māturīdī's Kitāb al-Tawḥīd? According to Rudolph, Māturīdī wrote his book as a response to a single text that served as a model of the discussion regarding the concept of tawḥīd. If this was the case, it would have been reasonable to expect Māturīdī to refer to that book (whether it is a Muʿtazilite one or not) successively throughout his whole treatise. In other words, there should have been one name that was mentioned regarding every one of the issues. Yet, as appears from Rudolph's own analysis, Māturīdī composed his book relying on specific works concerning specific questions. For every subject, he summarized, adapted, and responded to an idea presented by a different theologian.Footnote 32 Therefore, it is more plausible that each time Māturīdī had intended to write or speak on a certain subject; he was holding a different book dedicated to that issue and referred to it.
Furthermore, among the extant Muslim texts that could have served as a source for Kitāb al-Tawḥīd, regarding certain issues, none has a similar framework that could have been used as a structural model for this book. Therefore, Rudolph has to rely on later texts, such as the Kalām treatises, which were written after Māturīdī's time, in order to establish his hypothesis regarding the origin of the structure of the book.
We should not disregard the fact that Rudolph himself points to three texts that are indeed constructed in a frame identical to the structure of Māturīdī's book – Dāwūd b. Marwān al-Muqammaṣ's ʿIshrūn Maqāla (circa the first half of the ninth century);Footnote 33 Saʿadya Gaon's (d. 942)Footnote 34Kitāb al-Amānāt wa-al-Iʿtiqādāt; and the first book of the Hexaemeron (commentary on the story of the six days of creation) by Moses bar-Kepha (d. 903).Footnote 35 However, these are non-Muslims works, and at least two of them – the works of bar-Kepha and al-Muqammaṣ – undoubtedly appeared earlier than Kitāb al-Tawḥīd; the third – Saʿadya Gaon's work – was written no later than Māturīdī's own. None of the three books are Muslim, and hence, not Muʿtazila, and there is no earlier or contemporary Muʿtazilite work. Yet Rudolph explains the structural similarity of these treatises as additional evidence of the existence of an old Muʿtazilite Kitāb al-Tawḥīd, which he claims was the source of the structure of the discussion regarding the tawḥīd in those treatises as well.
In light of all that has been said up to this point, two alternative hypotheses may be offered instead of the one presented by Rudolph: One is that Māturīdī did not rely on a specific book as a model for the structure of the first half of his work. Instead, he created the structure of the book based on a model of discussion dealing with the subject of tawḥīd, a model that was popular among certain circles during his time. Alternatively, these circles were not necessarily Muʿtazilite. Māturīdī may have learned the structure of discussion during encounters with Christians. The structural affinity between his work and the treatises of bar-Kepha and al-Muqammaṣ (who was strongly influenced by Christian works) may reflect these encounters.
Let us examine this possibility: Pines has shown that the Kalām model of discussion is similar to the structure of John of Damascus's (d. 750)Footnote 36De Fide Orthodoxa. Pines concluded that this similarity may testify to the profound impact of Christian theology on Muʿtazilite Kalām. Yet he was able to find only one single additional Christian parallel, the Oratio Catechetica Magna by Gregory of Nyssa (d. 394).Footnote 37 Thus, it seems that neither he nor Rudolph has considered the possible relevance of Christian commentaries on the Bible to the discussed model.
Rudolph points to an opposite direction of influence than the one suggested by Pines. As mentioned above, he argues that the similarity between bar-Kepha's book and Māturīdī's Kitāb al-Tawḥīd (and also the similarity in outline between these two and the works of Saʿadya Gaon and al-Muqammaṣ) indicates that their common model is an exact imitation of an older, now lost, Muʿtazilite book, which had discussed the unity of God.Footnote 38 He ignores, however, the fact that the analogy he uses is between a theological summa and an exegetical treatise. According to what will be argued as follows, the appearance of the model in a commentary on Genesis is highly significant: A consideration of the old introductions to commentaries on Genesis may suggest a popular linkage between the model of discussion on the concept of tawḥīd and the commentaries on Genesis of that time.
Unfortunately, only fragments have survived from the old Jewish commentaries on Genesis, and more significantly, from their introductions. Therefore, the Jewish sources (namely the writings of Saʿadya Gaon, Jacob al-Qirqisānī,Footnote 39 Yefet ben ʿEli,Footnote 40 and Dāwūd b. Marwān al-Muqammaṣ) cannot be used as evidence of a systematic adoption of the structure of discussion concerning the tawḥīd in the commentaries on Genesis. Yet, as will be shown in the following, even the surviving fragments of these treatises testify that they contained the main elements of the model.
The following comparative structural analysis of the works of Māturīdī and bar-Kepha, together with some fragments of earlier Jewish and Christian commentaries on Genesis will examine the main points of contact between these works which reflect the key elements of the model of discussion concerning the concept of tawḥīd. In other words, the intention here is to focus on the similarities in the main components of the general structure of discussion as presented in these texts. A further study of the development of the Kalām model of discussion should no doubt investigate also the differences between these works and consider which components were removed from the original model and which were added to it in the course of time.Footnote 41 Moreover, there is no intention here to investigate all the arguments raised by the different authors or to try to trace the sources of any particular proof which is used in one of the texts discussed in the following. Another issue that will not be investigated here but should be considered in a future study is the relevance of the common Kalām logical techniques, such as taqsīm / qisma, ilzām, or muʿāraḍa, to the proof procedures used in our model of discussion.Footnote 42
RELIGIOUS KNOWLEDGE
Bar-Kepha and Māturīdī both open their texts with a discussion on the religious truth. They both mention the senses, testimony, tradition, and rational consideration among the ways to achieve religious knowledge.Footnote 43 While bar-Kepha is satisfied with a short paragraph about this issue, Māturīdī elaborates and explains, inter alia, how the skeptic, who denies the ways of achieving religious knowledge, should be convinced to reconsider his denial.Footnote 44
Although in the extant fragments of the Jewish commentaries on Genesis there is no reference to religious knowledge, the introductions to the commentaries on the whole Pentateuch by Saʿadya Gaon and Jacob al-Qirqisānī, which have survived almost fully, were dedicated especially to this subject. In them we can also find the three elements of religious knowledge that were mentioned by bar-Kepha and Māturīdī.Footnote 45 Like the latter, Saʿadya and Qirqisānī also try refuting the allegations of the skeptics concerning the attainment of religious knowledge.Footnote 46 I will therefore venture to propose, with due caution, the following suggestion: Since the introduction to the Pentateuch commentary probably preceded the introduction to the commentary on Genesis, perhaps the introductions of Saʿadya and Qirqisānī testify to a certain evolution of the model with which we are dealing. Thus, the preoccupation with religious knowledge at the beginning of the development of the model was first given a limited role, as a short preface to the main subject, the discussion of deity and the creation of the world (as it appears in bar-Kepha's text). With time, the preoccupation with this issue expanded; it was given an increasing role in Māturīdī's book and eventually was the basis of a separate composition assigned entirely to that subject.
THE CREATION OF THE WORLD
The first proof bar-Kepha and Māturīdī bring of God's existence is the creation of the world. Bar-Kepha notes the following qualities of the world which indicate that it was created in time: the world is finite, it is a body, it has boundaries, it is compound, perceivable by the senses, divided into parts, affected by changes and accidents, contains contraries, and it is limited by place and space.Footnote 47 Māturīdī first explains that the tradition testifies to the creation of the world by God and that it does not contain any evidence for the preexistence of the world. Then he presents proofs for the creation of the world based on observations that are very similar to those noted by bar-Kepha: the body's need for other bodies and accidents; the harmony of contraries; growth and reproduction; changing and desistance; finiteness; existence in time.Footnote 48 Qirqisānī too, in his commentary on Genesis 1:1,Footnote 49 presents rational proofs for the creation of the world before offering his proof of God's existence. One of these proofs is based on the observation that the world is limited and finite. The other proof he presents is close to Māturīdī's relying on tradition: Qirqisānī argues that if the world was ancient then any one who recognizes it would have known that it is ancient, but if the world is created it does not mean that every one who recognizes it must necessarily know that it is created.Footnote 50 In addition, in his proof that the time is created, he comes to the conclusion that the world was created in time.Footnote 51
THE EXISTENCE OF GOD
After determining the creation of the world as a proof of God's existence, both bar-Kepha and Māturīdī present several other arguments proving that He exists. Bar-Kepha uses the following arguments: the object of action testifies to the actor; the harmony of contraries; the finiteness of the elements that compose the world; the worship and praise to God which are customary from ancient times by many nations; inherent natural human considerations; the agreement of different and opposing religions that there is a God; the existence of the word “God” indicates that He exists; the question “how can you prove to me that there is a God?” refers to an existing thing.Footnote 52 Māturīdī bases his proofs that God exists on the same observations that he used for proving the creation of the world: the body's need for other bodies and accidents; the harmony of contraries; complexness and finiteness; existence in time; and changing. To these observations he adds the following arguments: if the world was existing by itself it would have create the good qualities, situations, and times for itself and abolish the bad ones; the wonders of the world indicate that they were created by a wise creator; the world can not exist by means of a temporary thing with no ability and knowledge.Footnote 53 In Qirqisānī's demonstration of God's existence we find the same idea used by bar-Kepha that the object of action testifies to the actor.Footnote 54 Qirqisānī's main proof of the presence of the divinity is based on the harmony of the opposites in the worldFootnote 55 – an argument raised by both bar-Kepha and Māturīdī.
GOD'S UNITY
Both Māturīdī and bar-Kepha base their proofs for the unity of God mainly on the unreasonable implications of the existence of more than one God.Footnote 56 Like both of them, Qirqisānī also relies on the assertion that a plurality of gods would have made harmony in the world impossible; as both of them he also argues that if there were two gods or more, the powers of each would have been limited.Footnote 57
GOD'S TRANSCENDENCE
Bar-Kepha first shows that God is eternal and infinite. His proofs of God's eternity and infinity are in fact based on the same arguments: First, God is not limited and is not defined by terms of time and place. Second, from the comprehensible – the creature, the temporary, the finite – we can learn about the incomprehensible, i.e. God.Footnote 58 From His eternity and infinity bar-Kepha concludes that even though God's existence can be observed, He cannot be perceived.Footnote 59
Māturīdī presents similar arguments, in an inverse order: First he determines the negation of likeness between God and the created things.Footnote 60 Yet, he emphasizes that only the visible reality testifies to the invisible one, and this is what proves God's existence.Footnote 61 Finally, he talks about the negation of God's corporeality – hence the negation of His limitedness and determination.Footnote 62 While bar-Kepha assumes that God can not be seen, Māturīdī later dedicates a long chapter to the proofs that God can be seen, even though He is incomprehensible and not similar to any thing in the visible reality. He qualifies this perception by emphasizing that God's appearance can not be described because it is incomprehensible.Footnote 63
The negation of God's corporeality can also be found in Qirqisānī's commentary on Genesis 1:1: Qirqisānī gives two reasons why God can not be a body – the first is that the body is composite while God can not be composite; the second reason is that if God was a body then he would have created bodies like him and this is impossible.Footnote 64
GOD'S IMMUTABILITY
Bar-Kepha explains that God can not be subject to change or modification, even if he is depicted with descriptions indicating a change when ascribed to creatures.Footnote 65
The preoccupation with the question of God's mutability appears in Māturīdī's book when he discusses the attributes of essence and attributes of action.Footnote 66 Māturīdī denies the common separation between the two kinds of attributes regarding God, since, in his opinion, this separation may imply modification in God. God anyway is transcendent, above change and imperfection, which are signs of innovation and creation.Footnote 67 Later, he emphasizes that there can be no modification in God, and therefore he is not corporeal.Footnote 68 Māturīdī also denies the belief that God is in place which, in his opinion, implies a need or disability of God and reduces His majesty and supremacy. Yet he explains that the description of God as being in a place does not indicate a limitation or change in God or lowering His majesty, but rather the supremacy of that place.Footnote 69
Like Māturīdī, Qirqisānī also refers to the distinction between attributes of essence and attributes of action. However, contrary to Māturīdī, he actually adopts this distinction.Footnote 70
THE DOGMA OF THE TRINITY/ THE DOCTRINE OF DIVINE ATTRIBUTES
Bar-Kepha proves, based on the Holy Scriptures but mostly on the qualities of the creatures and the supremacy of God compared to them, that God is composed of three hypostases and that He has word and spirit.Footnote 71
The discussion of the dogma of Trinity in Christian texts is parallel to the preoccupation with the question of God's attributes in Muslim and Jewish literature.Footnote 72 Accordingly, in Māturīdī's opinion, though God is not a body He has attributes. Māturīdī explains that because God is incomprehensible He can be described by attributes which express what perceived from the creation, but not require comparison, corporeality, or limitation of the divine essence.Footnote 73 Māturīdī dwells on the fact that God chooses (i.e., that He is a free agent), that He is knowing and powerful, and that He is a creator, in His essence, based on the result of His action – the creation.Footnote 74
In the introductions to the Jewish commentaries on Genesis it seems that a central role has been given to the discussion of God's attributes. (Perhaps as an antithesis, or simply as an adaptation of the preoccupation with the Trinity dogma in the Christian commentaries on Genesis, such as in bar-Kepha's). Thus, Saʿadya declares that God's actions are manifest in three attributes: power, life, and knowledge. Indeed, Moshe Zucker regards Saʿadya's discussion of the attributes as an example of the metaphoric expressions in the Bible, which cannot be interpreted literally but rather through the tradition. Therefore, he ascribes this discussion to the introduction to his commentary on the whole Pentateuch.Footnote 75 However, a doubt has been raised regarding the structure of this introduction, as it has been reconstructed by Zucker.Footnote 76 Considering this doubt and in light of the structural model presented here, perhaps the discussion of God's attributes was in fact placed in the introduction to Saʿadya's commentary on Genesis as part of that model. Qirqisānī combines the lists of Māturīdī and Saʿadya when he ascribes to God the attributes life, knowledge, power, and choice.Footnote 77
Bar-Kepha argues that God's word and spirit are different from ours and that they are real and eternal hypostases. According to him, God's word creates all the creatures, and His spirit completes them.Footnote 78 Māturīdī says that God has a divine word – uncreated speech, inseparable from the divine essence.Footnote 79 Like bar-Kepha, he also ascribes to the divine word the attribute of creation.Footnote 80
As bar-Kepha denies the possibility that the divine Word and Spirit are created, Māturīdī rejects the belief that God's attributes are created.Footnote 81 Māturīdī, Saʿadya and Qirqisānī all emphasize that God's attributes are in His essence and are not ascribed to Him as separate attributes added to His entity. The three of them also reject the idea that the belief in divine attributes may indicate likeness of God.Footnote 82 Māturīdī denies the assertion of those who negate the belief in attributes that describing God by essential names means comparison. He stress that these attributes are only expressions which help to understand God, yet they are not His real names, and they do not imply comparison or corporeality.Footnote 83 Saʿadya denies the likeness from both directions: God can not be resembled to the creatures and the creatures can not possess the power to create. He argues that God's attributes are ascribed to Him only metaphorically, yet he clarifies that these attributes are not different from the attributes revealed in visible things.Footnote 84 Qirqisānī, on the other hand, asserts that the attributes life, knowledge, power, and choice are ascribed to God not in the sense of life, knowledge, choice and power which exist in the visible reality, but in a negative way: as ruling out the possibility that God does not live, that there are things He does not know, that He acts by virtue of inherent nature, or that He is incompetent.Footnote 85
While some sections of the commentaries of Saʿadya and Qirqisānī, and their introductions to these commentaries in particular, may easily be considered as a theological treatises, it seems that their younger contemporary, Yefet ben ʿEli, has intentionally preferred to focus on a pure interpretation of the biblical passages.Footnote 86 Consequently, Yefet's introduction to his commentary on Genesis is rather different from the other treatises due to its extreme brevity, and it seems that Yefet knowingly chose this brevity as a result of his reservations concerning the exegetical method used before him.Footnote 87 Yet one of the only two subjects discussed in his introduction is the denial of God's likeness. The fact that even Yefet, in spite of his brevity, discusses it here emphasizes the traditional relevance of that subject to the exegesis of Genesis. Yefet explains that because of His oneness it is impossible for God to really have attributes. God's attributes do not describe Him but merely testify to His actions. According to Yefet, not only is it impossible to describe God using the attributes of His creatures, He cannot even be described with special attributes assigned only to Him that separate Him from all creatures.Footnote 88
Bar-Kepha ends the section dealing with God and His properties by indicating that God is described in the Scriptures on two levels: through personification and according to what He is.Footnote 89 Likewise, we can see that Qirqisānī divides God's names into three levels of importance as part of his strong objection to the anthropomorphic perception of those who reject the belief in unity based on “the resemblance of names”: names that are dedicated to God himself; names shared by Him and the angels; and names shared by God, the angels, and the human beings together.Footnote 90
DISAGREEMENTS REGARDING THE WORLD AND ITS CREATION
This section in the works of both bar-Kepha and Māturīdī is dedicated mainly to the confrontation with several questions regarding the creation of the world and to the presentation and the refutation of four central beliefs – the belief in the eternity/preexistence of the world;Footnote 91 prime matter;Footnote 92 the elements;Footnote 93 and dualism.Footnote 94 We should note the fact that Māturīdī devoted this section mainly to these four beliefs, and was not tempted to deal here (except for few short references) with the Muʿtazilite belief, which was usually the main target of his attacks. In other words, in this aspect he sticks to the accepted model, as presented by bar-Kepha. This may indicate the importance of that model for him. However, while bar-Kepha refers to the belief in the eternity of the world as one of the four heretical beliefs, Māturīdī consider the belief in the preexistence of the world (Dahriyya) as a general concept which includes the other heretical beliefs. Furthermore, the order of his discussion in this section is slightly different: while bar-Kepha discusses the four heretical beliefs, then deals with questions regarding the creation of the world, Māturīdī opens this section with general explanations for the sources of the disagreements concerning the creation of the world,Footnote 95 then he explains the reasons for the disagreements between the various beliefs included within the belief in eternity,Footnote 96 later he deals with issues concerning the creation of the world and finally discusses the heretical beliefs in detail.
The arguments presented by both bar-Kepha and Māturīdī for the refutation of the four central heretical beliefs are based mainly on the following elements: allegation that these beliefs imply reduction of the divine essence; proofs that the world was created; observation of nature; testimony of the object of action (i.e. the creation) on the actor (God); qualities of the matter/elements/light and darkness; assertion that the one who has a certain nature is not free from the act or the quality necessitated from his nature and can not act in contrast to his nature; deficiencies and contradictions deduced from the four heretical beliefs; and the records of the scriptures.Footnote 97
The issues regarding the creation of the world with which both bar-Kepha and Māturīdī are dealing are discussed within the framework of Aristotelian schema of four noetic questions (though their order of appearance is different in each of the works):
1) Does the world exist? Is the world created? Bar-Kepha's answer to this question is based on God's attributes and on the argument that His motion can not be compared to the motion of the created.Footnote 98 Māturīdī presents some proofs of Ibn Shabīb and of his own that the world was created from nothing.Footnote 99
2) What is the world? According to bar-Kepha the world is the evidence of God. He relies here on the argument that the world testifies to God as the constructor is revealed from the building, the carpenter from the chair and the painter from the painting.Footnote 100 (Māturīdī does not relate to this question in this section).
3) How is it,i.e.how was it created? Bar-Kepha and Māturīdī both agree that the world was created from nothing. Bar-Kepha explains that God had created the world in the twinkling of an eye, as he wished, by His unlimited and eternal power and knowledge. The arguments he uses are based mainly on God's attributes.Footnote 101 Māturīdī, likewise, relies on God's attributes when he asserts that God had created the world as He did because He is omnipotent, wise, and a creator in His essence. Moreover, Māturīdī emphasizes (in response to Ibn Shabīb's statements) that the quality of God's act or its outcome can not be defined and therefore the question “How did God create the world?” is absurd.Footnote 102
4) Why is it? According to bar-Kepha, the world was created not because God needed it or was persuaded by another to create it but as a result of God's kindness and grace,Footnote 103 whereas Māturīdī thinks God is a creator in his essence, and therefore the world was not created for a reason. On this occasion Māturīdī firmly denies Ibn Shabīb's statement that the world was created for the benefit of the created.Footnote 104
The whole discussion of the four noetic questions had been preserved in ʿIshrūn Maqāla of al-Muqammaṣ, the earliest theological Kalām summa that has survived.Footnote 105 Al-Muqammaṣ's commentary on Genesis apparently included also the same Aristotelian schema of four questions. The only extant fragment of this composition is presumably part of his answer to the third question and the beginning of the fourth question: “Why was the world created?” Al-Muqammaṣ argues that the diversity and the differences existing in this world testify to God's freedom of action: It shows that the one God, being capable and controlling both a thing and its opposite, had created the world by His will, out of complete sovereignty and freedom.Footnote 106
It should be noted that the aforementioned Aristotelian schema appeared also in the writings of Muʿtazilite Muslim thinkers contemporary to al-Muqammaṣ. Nevertheless, they used it generally as a starting point for their discussion, whereas in al-Muqammaṣ's theological summa the schema acquires a particular importance since it serves as the organizing principle of the whole composition.Footnote 107 Indeed, it is very difficult to distinguish the influence of the eastern Christian theology from that of the Muʿtazilite Kalām by al-Muqammaṣ's time. Furthermore, by the end of the ninth century Aristotelian works were already translated into Arabic. Therefore, the Arab theologians could draw from these texts directly without the mediation of Christian texts.Footnote 108 Yet the appearance of this schema within al-Muqammaṣ's Hexaemeron firmly establishes the connection of this commentary to the Christian exegetical tradition. (Though, it appears here supposedly in the interpretation of the first verse of Genesis, whereas in bar-Kepha's Hexaemeron it appears in the introduction to the book).Footnote 109
It is possible that the single extant page from Saʿadya's introduction to his commentary on Genesis (according to Zucker's assumption) was also a part of the discussion of the question: “Why did God create the world?” This is owing to the fact that this page is dedicated entirely to the affirmation that God does not need his creation.Footnote 110
A treatment of the heresies mentioned by bar-Kepha and Māturīdī can be found in Qirqisānī's interpretation to Genesis 1:1: As a part of the proof of God's existence from the harmony in the world, Qirqisānī denies the assertion of the believers in the preexistence of the world – that the elements perhaps were preexistent and unconnected until there was someone who merged them. Actually, it seems that he regards the belief in the elements as part of the belief in eternity.Footnote 111 Thus, maybe he also, like Māturīdī, considers the belief in eternity as a general notion while treating other heretical beliefs as variations within it, contrary to bar-Kepha who saw the belief in eternity as one of the four heretical beliefs.
PROPHECY
According to Sarah Stroumsa, three phases can be identified in the development of the preoccupation with prophecy after the rise of Islam: The first phase includes the signs of prophecy – a set of prophetic prerequisites developed by Muslims as a reaction to the Jewish and Christian attacks on Muḥammad's qualifications as a prophet. The second phase is identified by “negative signs” of the true religion – a list of criteria for the evaluation of the true religion, the Christian response to the “signs of prophecy” of the Muslims. The final phase is a description of Muḥammad's prophecy with Christian motifs, the Muslim answer to the Christian evaluation of the religion.Footnote 112
The chapter dedicated to prophecy in bar-Kepha's introduction to his Hexaemeron probably belongs to the first phase: bar-Kepha designates this chapter to Moses and his law. First, he explains why the knowledge of creation was not revealed until Moses' time.Footnote 113 Then he describes the circumstances in which Moses became a prophet.Footnote 114 He clarifies how to determine that Moses was sent by God while defining the characteristics of prophecy.Footnote 115 Eventually, he goes on to talk about the law brought by Moses.Footnote 116
Māturīdī, on the other hand, uses a late version of the discussion of prophecy, which fits the third phase of its development. This version can be divided into two: a crystallized set of proofs of the human need for prophet in general,Footnote 117 and arguments supporting Muḥammad's prophecy and supremacy over the rest of the prophets by using typical Christian motifs, such as presenting his victories as miracles; his adherents joining Islam out of faith, not for earthly reward; the emphasis on his and his family's modest nature; the spread of his message among many nations; and so on.Footnote 118
Bar-Kepha is thus using an early version of the discussion of prophecy while Māturīdī is using a late one. This may, on the one hand, indicate that contrary to Rudolph's assumption the two were not relying on one source. On the other hand, we may assume that bar-Kepha was inspired by an older Muslim text, which contained the same typical Muslim set of “signs of prophecy.” Therefore, he concentrates on the evaluation of prophecy and does not present signs of religious veracity here, as may be expected from a Christian version of discourse on prophecy, for it is known that by his time some of the criteria of proving religious veracity had already been crystallized by Christian thinkers. Thus, in the theological summa of al-Muqammaṣ, who was bar-Kepha's contemporary and apparently used an early Christian list of “signs of prophecy,” some of the true religious characteristics are already included in the chapter dealing with prophecy.Footnote 119 Moreover, indications of characteristics like those may still be found in bar-Kepha's introduction, yet not within the discussion of prophecy but in different contexts.Footnote 120
Unfortunately, I did not find mentions of prophesy in the extant fragments of the beginnings of the Jewish commentaries on Genesis, which is the final subject shared by the works of both bar-Kepha and Māturīdī.
Still, from what has been shown up to this point, it may be concluded that (apart from the subject of prophecy) the components of the model of discussion concerning the concept of tawḥīd appeared at the beginnings of Jewish commentaries on Genesis, which date back to bar-Kepha's time. This appearance may indicate a widespread practice, already established by bar-Kepha's time, of writing an introduction to the commentary on Genesis according to the above-mentioned formula.
However, it seems that this practice was widespread even before bar-Kepha's time. Indeed, as we will see below, traces of this pattern may already be found in Basilius's Hexaemeron from the fifth century and in its Syrian version,Footnote 121 which was probably much more accessible for those who lived in the Muslim world at the formative period of the Kalām:Footnote 122
DEDUCTION OF GOD'S EXISTENCE FROM THE EVIDENCE OF THE WORLD'S CREATION
Basil declares that he who wrote the book of Genesis had clarified at the beginning of his composition that the world has a beginning in time.Footnote 123 However, if it has a beginning, it is clearly created. Thus, we should ask who gave it a beginning, who is the creator of the world? From the visible we can reach to the invisible, and from the world that has a beginning and therefore also an end, we can learn about things that have no end.Footnote 124
GOD'S EXISTENCE
The evidence of God's existence based on the principle that the object of action testifies to its actor can be identified in Basil's Hexaemeron.Footnote 125 Also, the idea of the finiteness of the elements of which the world is composed already appears in this text. In fact, the way bar-Kepha uses this idea to prove the existence of God is very similar to the way Basil presents it.Footnote 126
GOD'S TRANSCENDENCE
At the end of the first homily of Basil's Hexaemeron the assumption, emphasized by both bar-Kepha and Māturīdī, appears that even though God is hidden and transcendent, we can learn about Him by deduction from the visible creation.Footnote 127
GOD'S ESSENCE
Though I could not find a clear reference to God's essence in the old Christian commentaries on Genesis, the emphasis on the dogma of the Trinity is evident in all of them from their beginning: According to a perception that became very popular in the writings of the Fathers, the first verse of Genesis refers to “the creation of the universe through the agency of God the Son.”Footnote 128 Some of the Fathers were so convinced that God the Son was the agent in the creation that they understood the first words of Genesis as “by means of the Son [baben, בבן]Footnote 129 God created heaven and earth.”Footnote 130 A very early testimony of this perception can be found in Jerome's (342–420)Footnote 131Hebrew Questions on Genesis. In this book Jerome analyzes the Christian exegesis on the Hebrew formula of Genesis. He declares that the correct version of the verse is: “In the beginning, God made heaven and earth”; and he explains that “the verse can be applied to Christ more in respect of its intention than following its literal translation”Footnote 132 since it was determined in the Gospel that God the Father had created the world through the agency of his Son. Moreover, the Gospel connects the Son's activity in creation directly to the opening words of Genesis: According to Genesis the Son is “the One in whom and through whom all things, in heaven and on earth, were created.” “The Son was before all things, which themselves consist in Him.”Footnote 133
The perception presented by bar-Kepha, that the divine word creates the creatures while the Holy Spirit completes them, is also known from the Christian exegesis of Genesis 1:2. Therefore, Ephrem the Syrian (373)Footnote 134 says: “As the Father would speak, the Son would do [it], and the Spirit would brood and would display compassion.” Additionally, Dionysius bar-Salibi (d. 1171) declares later: “The Father commanded things to be done, the Son did them and the Spirit had completed them.”Footnote 135 Likewise, Ephrem speaks in his interpretation of Genesis 2:2 about the divine word as a real incorporeal essence that creates the whole world.Footnote 136
PEOPLE'S DISAGREEMENTS REGARDING THE WORLD AND ITS CREATION
In Basil's Hexaemeron we may also detect the first signs of the treatment of questions concerning the creation of the world and the heretical beliefs as discussed by bar-Kepha and Māturīdī: There is a reference here to the belief in elements; Basil says that some of the philosophers “took refuge in material principles, and they declared that the cause of this visible world is the elements.”Footnote 137 Like bar-Kepha, Basil too asserts that God created the world by his will.Footnote 138 The belief in eternity also appears in his text: The scientists, he claims, thought that “this visible world was of the same substance as God” and “that heaven is eternally co-essential with God.”Footnote 139 Basil mentions the belief in stars,Footnote 140 like Māturīdī.Footnote 141 He also answers the question: “Why was the world created?” He explains that it “was not established in vain and pointlessly.”Footnote 142 After that, he deals with the question: “How has it been created?” Like bar-Kepha, Basil stresses that the creation of the world “was more rapid than a short nod and its naming is timeless.”Footnote 143 He disagrees with the Greeks, who did not admit that the world was created by God from his will.Footnote 144 Like Māturīdī in his reply to the Sumaniyya,Footnote 145 Basil sees the fact that the earth stays in its place despite its weight as evidence of God's wisdom.Footnote 146
PROPHECY
According to a common scholarly assumption, before the rise of Islam the preoccupation with prophecy in theological literature was rather limited.Footnote 147 Therefore, allegedly it is not likely that bar-Kepha's preoccupation with prophecy would be inspired by a pre-Islamic Christian source. However, studying the old Christian commentaries on Genesis in fact shows that this possibility can not be excluded: These writings open by mentioning Moses' name as the one who was chosen by God for writing the law on His behalf. A description of the question “why was the knowledge of creation not revealed until Moses' time?” similar to the one given by bar-Kepha may be found in Ephrem's work – like bar-Kepha, he explains that in Moses' time people began to believe in many gods, and therefore Moses received from God the mission of teaching the people that the world was created from nothing by one single omnipotent creator.Footnote 148 Basilius elaborates more: He presents the condition that turns a person into prophet. Then he describes Moses' virtues and the circumstances that enabled him to become prophet in detail.Footnote 149
This may be compatible with some findings recently introduced by Michael Pregill.Footnote 150 Pregill has shown that there are certain common features of discussion about prophetic fallibility or infallibility that appear in both Judeo-Arab philosophy – specifically in Ibn Ezra's (d. 1164) work – and in Muslim literature from the eighth century onward. These features appear already in the seventh century in the work of a Syriac author named John of Fenek, better known as Bar Penkāyē. However, “Bar Penkāyē,” says Pregill, “is far too early to be substantially influenced by Muslim discourse, since Islamic tradition was relatively young at this time.” Pregill, therefore, rejects the common assumption that the preoccupation with proofs of prophecy was extremely rare before the rise of Islam. Instead, he suggests the possibility that “this discourse is pre-Islamic and reflects the particular concerns of Jews and Christians in Late Antiquity; when they came on the scene somewhat later, Muslims inherited this discourse, assimilated it, adapted it, and in the end significantly reoriented that discourse and sent it off in new directions.” He argues that the example of Ibn Ezra is “a Jewish reincorporation of a discourse itself assimilated and adapted by Muslims in response to Jews and Christians.” Furthermore, Pregill argues that before Muḥammad's revelation there was “a prophetic ferment or enthusiasm that itself likely contributes to the emergence of Islam.” Pregill's argument, that the interest in prophecy preceded Islam, can therefore be strengthened by what we have seen above in Basil's work.
Whether the description intended to verify Moses' prophecy is unusual for Basil's time or not, it seems to me that its appearance in Basil's Hexaemeron could imply the later entrance of a crystallized set of “signs of prophecy” – by the impact of Islamic challenge – into the framework of a commentary on Genesis, as can be found in bar-Kepha's work. Hence, even though the part dedicated to prophecy in the Kalām model appears at the end, whereas in Christian writing Moses is mentioned at the beginning, we may consider the preoccupation with Moses within the old Christian Hexaemeron commentaries as a source for the preoccupation with prophecy inside the discussion of the concept of tawḥīd.
We may say now that the main components of the discussion model concerning the concept of tawḥīd in the Kalām period – as they appeared in bar-Kepha's introduction to his Hexaemeron and in the first half of Māturīdī's Kitāb al-Tawḥīd – together constituted (though not in the same order) the basis of the interpretation of Genesis 1:1 by the fourth century, as revealed from the Hexaemeron of Basilius. The main conclusion offered here is that there is a connection between this model and the Jewish and Christian commentaries on Genesis. Hence, we may point to the Christian Hexaemeron treatises as a possible source of the Kalām model of discussion concerning the concept of tawḥīd.
Many questions nevertheless remain open regarding the possible influence of Christian or Jewish commentaries on Genesis on Muslim Kalām writings and vice versa and concerning the connection between Christian, Jewish, and Muslim Kalām treatises: When and where was the structure of the discussion about the tawḥīd created? From what has been shown above, it is rather obvious that Māturīdī did not write his summa following a Muʿtazilite book, which was constructed according to this framework, as Rudolph asserts. However, was the model of the discussion developed before bar-Kepha's time (d. 903), or in a slightly different version, before John Damascene's time (d. 750)? Is it possible that the appearance of the components of the model in the Hexaemeron of Basilius – and later on in the commentaries of bar-Kepha, Muqammaṣ, Saʿadya, and Qirqisānī, as well as in Māturīdī's theological summa – testifies to the existence of an exegetic structural tradition that passed at some point onto the genre of theological summa?
There is no doubt that continuing the investigation of the development of the Kalām structure of discussion concerning the concept of tawḥīd might contribute to the understanding of the interaction between various religions, schools, and faiths. Yet, as we saw above, an investigation like this should also take into consideration the mutual influences of the literary genres that were popular in the world of Islam during the Kalām period.Footnote *
