Alexander Orwin's approach to al-Farabi's political thought is refreshing. He is well aware of the usual scholarly debates on this topic, but chose to focus on a term with a double meaning, namely, umma. Though this is unusual in a medieval setting, al-Farabi uses umma to refer to what we now call a nation. But, of course, this term also often appears in the Qurʾan with the meaning of the community of believers, which transcends ethnic, geographic, and linguistic boundaries. These two meanings lead Orwin to observe their interplay in al-Farabi's writings.

Orwin, first, determines how al-Farabi conceives the “national” umma and to do so uses many Farabian texts and not simply those generally classified as political. He argues convincingly that, for al-Farabi, people sharing the same geographical area and the same language may constitute a “national” umma. Orwin offers a detailed examination of al-Farabi's views on language and dialects. This reader particularly appreciated his use of The Great Book of Music, which, though one of the longest works al-Farabi penned, remains much neglected. Orwin tells us very honestly on page 213 that this book is so technical in what concerns music proper that he limited his reading to the introduction. Orwin is right to speak of this text as a forbidding book, but contrary to what he says on the same page, there exists a full translation of this text in a European language. In 1930–35 Rodolphe d'Erlanger translated it into French (Paris: Vrin, 2001 [reprint]). There exists also an English translation of its last section in a 1992 Cornell University PhD dissertation by Madian Azza Abd al-Hamid, Language–Music Relationships in al-Farabi's Grand Book of Music. This last section contains fascinating remarks on the political importance of music and why rulers should pay close attention to the kind of music people perform or enjoy.

Orwin dedicates one chapter to the Muslim umma and then moves to a study of the interplay between the two types of ummas. He claims that al-Farabi “strives to assure their harmonious coexistence” (p. 136). In showing this, Orwin raises various questions trying to determine what al-Farabi would think of some issues. For instance, he asserts that al-Farabi would require a looser and more flexible interpretation of Islam for artists and judges. The section on al-Farabi's Encouragement of Visual Art in Islam fascinated me. I do not think anyone had yet considered what al-Farabi says of the visual arts.

While discussing various aspects of al-Farabi's views Orwin tries to determine what these views may contribute to contemporary issues in the Islamic world. For instance, he reflects on al-Farabi and the Modern Restoration of the Muslim Umma. I find it refreshing that, besides a careful and historically grounded reading of al-Farabi's texts, Orwin tries to tell us what al-Farabi's views can tell us for today.

The book is clear, well-written, and often carefully nuanced. Orwin reads texts carefully and points to interesting and unexpected statements, as well as to what may well be significant omissions. He certainly gives us a plausible interpretation of obscure or surprising passages, but at times I am far from sure that this is the only plausible interpretation. Orwin certainly offers food for thought.

Political philosophy is not my favorite philosophical field, but this book grabbed my attention and was a pleasure to read. It is well informed, closely reads texts, and raises fascinating issues. It is provocative at times and should be read with some caution, but I do not hesitate to recommend it.