Al-Ghaza¯lı¯’s Philosophical
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tan. Terken Kha¯tu ¯n was also the mother of one of the caliph’s wives—who by this time, however, was no longer alive—and she had earlier tried to yield some
a l ife b e t w e e n p ubl ic a nd p r i vat e ins t r uc t ion 3 7 infl uence on the caliph’s own succession. After some hesitation and negotia- tion—in which al-Ghaza¯lı¯, as we will see, played a role—the caliph responded to Terken Kha¯tu ¯n’s demands and proclaimed Mah.mu¯d as the new sultan. Soon after Mah.mu¯d’s name was called during the Friday prayers, he, his mother, and their entourage made their way to Isfahan in order to gain the support of the powerful Seljuq amı¯ r s. Baghdad and the Seljuq Empire were thrown in a period of political uncertainty. Local Seljuq commanders (singl. shah.na ) and their garrison troops became rulers of the city. 119
While the struggle over the sultanate was going on, the new vizier Ta¯j al-Mulk was murdered in Muh.arram 486 / February 1093, only three months after his predecessor was assassinated. As he had been openly accused of being responsible for the killing of Niz.a¯m al-Mulk, the Niz.a¯miyya avenged him and apparently killed Ta¯j al-Mulk. Later that year, Terken Kha¯tu ¯n and her son, the child sultan Mah.mu¯d, died of an infectious disease. Berk-Yaruq (see fi gure 1.2) was now free to advance to the throne; he traveled to Baghdad and was de- clared sultan in Muh.arram 487 / February 1094. On the following day, 15 Muh. arram / 4 February, the Caliph al-Muqtadı¯ died, apparently of natural causes. 120
Within sixteen months of Niz.a¯m al-Mulk’s assassination, the whole political elite of the Seljuq state was dead, including the caliph. All these deaths and up- heaval led to a situation in which, according to the historian ¶At.a¯-Malik Juvaynı¯ (d. 681/1283), “the affairs of the realm were thrown into disorder and confu- sion; there was chaos ( harj va-marj ) in the provinces, (. . .) and turmoil and uproar in the kingdom.” 121
Erika Glassen and Carole Hillenbrand have argued that these deaths were neither coincidence nor due to the instigation of Isma¯ ¶ı¯lite “assassins.” fi gure 1.2 Sultan Berk-Yaruq among his court. Miniature from Rashı¯d al-Dı¯n T.abı¯b’s Compendium of Chronicles. The miniatures in this manuscript (same as fi gures 1.1 and 1.5) are the earliest extant historical illustrations in Islam (Edinburgh University Library, MS Arab 20, fol. 139b).
3 8 a l - gh a z a ¯ l 1
¯ ’ s ph ilosoph ic a l t h e olo g y They were the result of a failed attempt by Terken Kha¯tu¯n to bring her son Mah.mu¯d to power, combined with a counterintrigue instigated by the so-called Niz.a¯miyya . 122 Al-Ghaza¯lı¯’s student Abu¯ Bakr ibn al- ¶Arabi gives a full account of these events that concurs with Glassen’s and Hillenbrand’s analysis, sug- gesting that Ta¯j al-Mulk was a clandestine Isma¯ ¶ı¯lite who used his contacts to arrange a contract killing. 123
Al-Ghaza¯lı¯ took an active part in the attempts to foil Terken Kha¯tu¯n’s plans. Shortly after Niz.a¯m al-Mulk’s and Maliksha¯h’s deaths, the assumption of Terken Kha¯tu¯n’s son seemed all but certain. “Things went smoothly,” Ibn al-Jawzı¯ writes, “until Terken Kha¯tu¯n asked the caliph for the installation of her son.” This was in Shawwa¯l 485 / November 1092, only days after Maliksha¯h’s death. The caliph hesitated and proposed to write three separate documents, one that would install Mah.mu¯d as sultan and two others that would install Mah.mu¯d’s general as amı¯r of the army and his confi dant Ta¯j al-Mulk as vizier and comptroller of fi nances. That way, the caliph would gain a chance to control the future appointment of these two vital offi ces, which had thus far been under the sole domain of the sultan. Terken Kha¯tu¯n refused to accept this usurpation and demanded that all offi ces be put in the hands of her minor son. The caliph, in turn, declined, saying that religious law would not allow him to place that much power in the hands of a minor. 124
The historian Ibn al-Athı¯r reports that when the caliph sent the letter to Terken Kha¯tu¯n explaining his refusal to write a single document for Mah.mu¯d, she refused to receive it. To mediate between the parties, the caliph sent al-Ghaza¯lı¯ to Terken Kha¯tu¯n. Apparently, all this happened during the week between Maliksha¯h’s death and Mah.mu¯d’s proclamation. Al-Ghaza¯lı¯ told the widowed queen in clear terms: “Your son is a minor and the religious law ( al-shar ¶ ) does not allow his installation as [ full] ruler.” Eventually, Terken Kha¯tu¯n conceded this point and accepted the caliph’s conditions for the appointment of her son. When on 22 Shawwa¯l 485 / 25 November 1092, the khut.ba was read in his name, the provision for the highest military offi ce and the vizierate was clearly spelled out. 125
Four days later, Terken Kha¯tu¯n and Mah.mu¯d left for Isfahan, where they would both die. Al-Ghaza¯lı¯ was the most senior scholar who had supported the demands of the caliph; other scholars had refused this novel way of reading the khut.ba . Whether al-Ghaza¯lı¯ did this in order to boost the power of the caliph or that of the Niz.a¯miyya is unclear. The caliph’s plan was to get rid of the Seljuq overlords. Although the party of Niz.a¯m al-Mulk would not support such a plan, the coup would fi t into their plot to install Berk- Yaruq and to oust Mah.mu¯d. The historian Ibn Kathı¯r writes that the caliph initially refused to fully install Mah.mu¯d, “and al-Ghaza¯lı¯ agreed with him.” 126
Al-Ghaza¯lı¯’s position was: “Allowed is only that what the caliph says.” 127 Other scholars from the H . anafi te school supported the claims of Terken Kha¯tu¯n, but al-Ghaza¯lı¯ prevailed.
Eventually, Terken Kha¯tu ¯n, her son, and the caliph, al-Muqtadı¯, soon passed away, and what they had negotiated was of no value to later caliphs. The party of Niz.a¯m al-Mulk succeeded in bringing Berk-Yaruq to power. It re- mains unclear whether this was what al-Ghaza¯lı¯ had advocated or whether he a l ife b e t w e e n p ubl ic a nd p r i vat e ins t r uc t ion 3 9 sincerely supported the advances of the caliph. In his political theory—both the early one formulated in his juvenile works on jurisprudence as well as his later ideas in The Council for Kings ( Nas.ı¯h.at al-mulu¯k )—the caliph plays no special role among those who bear political responsibility. If he is weak, he remains a largely ceremonial fi gurehead and is expected to leave the affairs of the state to offi cials who have real power and whom he is expected to appoint. 128
Al-Ghaza¯lı¯ argued in favor of strong governing bodies that could enforce the religious law effectively. 129
These strong governing individuals ( wa¯lin, pl. wula¯t ) could be ei- ther caliphs or sultans. 130 If the caliph is able to acquire suffi cient authority and power ( shawka ), he may become himself a direct ruler and displace his appoint- ees.
131 Al-Ghaza¯lı¯’s objection against the installment of a minor as a sultan may have been triggered simply by his desire for a strong executive power. Yet, he may have also supported Caliph al-Muqtadı¯’s goal to become a direct ruler over Baghdad and Iraq. Finally, it may have also served a third interest, namely, the creation of a strong vizierate for the Niz.a¯miyya party that could dominate a weak sultan and a weak caliph. In a letter he wrote about ten years after these events, al-Ghaza¯lı¯ cites the deaths of the four viziers—Niz.a¯m al-Mulk, Ta¯j al-Mulk, Majd al-Mulk, and Mu 7ayyad al-Mulk—as a lesson from which to learn. 132 The letter is directed to Mujı¯r al-Dı¯n, who was then vizier to Sanjar. 133
Al-Ghaza¯lı¯’s elaborate prose makes no attempts to hide his opinion that the four viziers reaped what they had sowed. Niz.a¯m al-Mulk died, the letter suggests, because he was old and could no longer control the army. “His death,” al-Ghaza¯lı¯ writes, “was con- nected to treachery ( khiya¯nat ) and discord ( mukha¯lafat ).” 134
Al-Ghaza¯lı¯ does not mention the Isma¯ ¶ı¯lites. 135 Given the fact that all four viziers died violently in court intrigues, the letter’s recipient is advised to take a close look at the fate of the four viziers and to draw his own conclusions. Al-Ghaza¯lı¯ writes that Mujı¯r al-Dı¯n’s situation is worse than that of his four predecessors: “You should know that none of the four viziers had to confront what you have to confront, namely the kind of oppression ( z.ulm ) and desolation ( khara¯b ) there is now.” 136
Al-Ghaza¯lı¯ addresses Mujı¯r al-Dı¯n in blunt words, invoking fear that those who collaborate with tyrants will themselves be judged as evildoers in the hereafter. He predicts inevitable punishment if the vizier does not change his ways. In his Council for Kings ( Nas.ı¯h.at al-mulu¯k ), al-Ghaza¯lı¯ fi nds equally harsh words for those in power. This book was composed after 501/1108 at the request of Sanjar, when he was vice-regent of Khorasan. Governmental authority, al- Ghaza¯lı¯ admonishes therein, will only be fi rm if its holders have strong faith ( ı¯
tongue. Al-Ghaza¯lı¯ claims that true faith was rare with the government offi cials of the day; he wonders whether an offi cial who squanders thousands of dinars on one of his confi dants truly has anything left of his faith. On Judgment Day, this money will be demanded back from him, and he will be tormented for his waste of the community’s wealth. 137
or the members of Sanjar’s courts reacted to al-Ghaza¯lı¯’s admonitions. In an anachronistic and probably anecdotal meeting between al-Ghaza¯lı¯ and the 4 0 a l - gh a z a ¯ l 1
¯ ’ s ph ilosoph ic a l t h e olo g y famous vizier and author Anu ¯shirwa¯n ibn Kha¯lid (d. around 532/1138), the statesman rejects the scholar’s reproaches as hypocrisy. Al-Ghaza¯lı¯’s moralistic posture is for him just another attempt to compete for worldly regard. After having listened to al-Ghaza¯lı¯’s warnings, Anu ¯rshirwa¯n said: “There is no god but God! When this man started his career and sought to outdo me through merits that appeared in his honorifi c titles, he was dressed in gold and silk. Now, his affairs have returned to the very same state.” 138 Now, Anu ¯shirwa¯n im- plied, he would try to outdo him with his moralistic posture. But even that was selfi shness masquerading as virtue. The letter to Mujı¯r al-Dı¯n was, of course, written after al-Ghaza¯lı¯ himself changed and refused to collaborate with rulers. In 485/1092 it appears that he was still part of the powerful political group of the Niz.a¯miyya . He witnessed its temporary failure during the installation of Mah.mu¯d and later its mistake in supporting Berk-Yaruq, who as an adult was accused of sympathizing with Isma¯ ¶ı¯lite activities under his reign. 139
For al-Ghaza¯lı¯, the events of 485/1092 and the year after must have appeared as a serious political challenge to the patrons of the Niz.a¯miyya madrasa and to Sunnism as a whole. The continu- ing death toll among the leaders was accompanied by a civil-war-like period of religious and political subversion in Iran. Even before Niz.a¯m al-Mulk’s death, Isma¯ ¶ı¯lite Shiite groups, no longer loyal to the Fa¯t.imid caliph in Cairo, had managed to conquer and control a number of castles in Iran. In 483/1090, the stronghold of Alamu ¯t in the northern province of Daylam had fallen into the hands of these Isma¯ ¶ı¯lite Shiites. By 485/1092, the Shiites, who called them- selves Niza¯rı¯s and were led by H . asan ibn al-S.abba¯h. (d. 518/1124), controlled all of Daylam. A year later, the eastern province Quhistan was the place of a successful Niza¯rite uprising. 140 And although the Isma¯ ¶ı¯lites were never able to overthrow the strong Seljuq state with its numerous and powerful Turkish troops, they caused signifi cant unrest within its cities and in some provinces. In Baghdad and Isfahan, the Shiite insurrection led to witch hunts against suspected Isma¯ ¶ı¯lites, killing many. 141 The chronicler Ibn al-Jawzı¯ refers to these events as “the days of the Esoterics.” 142
Suspected agents and missionaries of the Isma¯ ¶ı¯lite movement were swiftly tried and executed. 143 The political crisis over Maliksha¯h’s succession would continue until 497/1104, when Berk-Yaruq agreed to a division of power with his half-brothers Muh.ammad Tapar and Sanjar. The religious confrontation between Sunnı¯ theology and its Isma¯ ¶ı¯lite Shiite challengers, however, was not so easy to overcome. Leaving Baghdad, Traveling in Syria and the Hijaz, and Returning to Khorasan Al-Ghaza¯lı¯’s autobiography still offers the most detailed account of the reasons that led to his sudden departure from Baghdad in Dhu ¯ l-Qa ¶da 488 / Novem- ber 1095. Here he says that at some time before the month of Rajab / July of that year, he began to study the writings of such Sufi s as al-Junayd, al-Shiblı¯, al-H
. a¯rith al-Muh.a¯sibi, Abu ¯ Yazı¯d al-Bist.a¯mı¯, and Abu¯ T.a¯lib al-Makkı¯. In their a l ife b e t w e e n p ubl ic a nd p r i vat e ins t r uc t ion 4 1 works, he learned about epistemological paths such as “taste” ( dhawq ) and oth- ers, which had been unknown to him, according to this account. These ways of knowing are described as individual experiences of the soul, and their relation- ship to descriptive knowledge compares with the relationship between experi- encing drunkenness and merely knowing its defi nition. Al-Ghaza¯lı¯ portrays himself during this time as being in a state in which “a strong belief in God, in prophecy, and in the Day of Judgment” had been fi rmly established within him. 144
After his studies and subsequent realizations, he writes, he began to understand that fi rm convictions about religious tenets are not relevant when it comes to the afterlife. On the Day of Judgment only an individual’s actions are taken into account: “It had already become clear to me that my only hope of attaining happiness in the next world was through devoutness ( taqwa¯ ) [towards God] and restraining the soul from the passions.” 145 In his autobiography, al- Ghaza¯lı¯ describes his reaction after realizing this and looking at his career: Next, I attentively considered my circumstances, and I saw that I was immersed in attachments, which had encompassed me from all sides. I also considered my achievements—the best of them being my instructions and my teaching—and I understood that here I was applying myself to sciences that are unimportant and useless on the way to the hereafter. Then I refl ected on my intentions in my in- struction, and I saw that it was not directed purely to God. Rather, it was instigated and motivated by the quest for fame and widespread prestige. So I became certain that I was on the brink of a crumbling bank and already on the verge of falling into Hell unless I sat about mending my ways. 146
his career at the Niz.a¯miyya. He hesitated, however, and did not have the resolve to carry it out. In Rajab 488 / July 1095, his crisis of indecision would turn into a physical ailment: al-Ghaza¯lı¯ lost the ability to speak. “For God put a lock unto my tongue and I was impeded from teaching. (. . .) No word could pass my tongue and I was completely unable to say anything.” 147
This also affected his eating and drinking as he became unable to swallow or even to nourish himself from broth. When a physician gave up all treatment and suggested that “this is something which had settled in the soul and from there it affects the mixture [of the four humors],” 148
it became clear to al-Ghaza¯lı¯ that he could fi nd the cure nowhere else than within himself. Now it became easy for al-Ghaza¯lı¯, he wrote, to fi nd the resolve and turn away from fame and riches ( al-ja¯h wa-l-ma¯l ), from family and children, and from his colleagues ( as.h.a¯b ). 149
This is one of the few passages in his autobiography in which al-Ghaza¯lı¯ mentions his family. Later, in a letter written around 504/1110, al-Ghaza¯lı¯ says that he did not yet have a family when he arrived in Baghdad in the summer of 484/1091. 150 Now, four years later, his situation has changed, and he makes provisions for them, probably sending them to T.u¯s, where they would ask him to come two years later. 151 He announced that he himself would go on a pilgrimage to Mecca, while he was in reality planning to turn his path 4 2 a l - gh a z a ¯ l 1
¯ ’ s ph ilosoph ic a l t h e olo g y toward Syria: “I did this as a precaution in case the caliph and all of my col- leagues might learn about my plan to spend time in Damascus.” 152
Escaping his obligations to the caliph and the Niz.a¯miyya madrasa was an important part of al-Ghaza¯lı¯’s plan. On the one hand, these were professional obligations. On the other hand, they were personal, sealed by oaths (singl. bay ¶a ) toward certain individuals. While a three-month-long pilgrimage would certainly be excused, a move to Damascus would have been considered desertion and defection from the promises given to caliph, sultan, vizier, and colleagues. In Dhu
¯ l-Qa ¶da 488 / November 1095, al-Ghaza¯lı¯ left Baghdad and traveled to Damascus. In his autobiography, al-Ghaza¯lı¯ describes that he had made proper arrangements for his family and his teaching position at the Niz.a¯miyya. 153
His younger brother, Ah.mad, who was then a teacher at the Ta¯jiyya madrasa, would stand in for al-Ghaza¯lı¯. Ah.mad was only his brother’s substitute teacher ( na¯ 7ib ) and not an appointed professor, and he would have to leave the Niz.a¯miyya after a few months. 154
During his travels to Damascus and later to Jerusalem, Hebron, and the Hija¯z, al-Ghaza¯lı¯ was accompanied by Abu ¯ T.a¯hir al-Shabba¯k of Gurga¯n (d. 513/1119), who had studied with al-Juwaynı¯ alongside al-Ghaza¯lı¯ and stayed close to his more brilliant classmate all through these years. 155
There are indications that al-Ghaza¯lı¯’s period of retreat ( ¶ uzla ), which ac- cording to his autobiography began with his well-documented departure from Baghdad in the fall of 488/1095, may have started earlier. Abu ¯ Bakr ibn al- ¶Arabı¯, who was briefl y al-Ghaza¯lı¯’s student, mentions that he met the great “Da¯nishmand” 156 in Juma¯da II 490 (May–June 1097), when the theologian was on his way from Syria to Khorasan and stayed in Baghdad for about six months. In one of his books, Abu ¯ Bakr describes how al-Ghaza¯lı¯ gave him guidance about matters concerning the human soul. Here he writes that when he met al-Ghaza¯lı¯, he had already been a practitioner of Sufi sm for fi ve years. Ibn al- ¶Arabı¯ specifi es that his teacher had “accepted the Sufi path ( al-t.arı¯qa al- s.u¯fi yya ) and made himself free for what it requires” in the year 486, which cor- responds roughly to 1093. That is when al-Ghaza¯lı¯ had put himself in seclusion ( al- ¶uzla ), Ibn al- ¶Arabı¯ says, and when he had renounced all groups. 157
If Abu
¯ Bakr ibn al- ¶Arabı¯’s information is correct—and we have no rea- son to doubt it—al-Ghaza¯lı¯’s turn away from fame and worldly riches and toward his “seclusion” ( ¶
gave up his teaching at the Niz.a¯miyya and left for Syria. Ibn al- ¶Arabı¯’s report informs us that leaving Baghdad was the result of a longer process and not the fi ve-month-long crisis that is described in al-Ghaza¯lı¯’s autobiography. Al- Ghaza¯lı¯’s presentation in his Deliverer may have been prompted by reports about the life of the Prophet Muh.ammad and about al-Ash ¶arı¯, who, like other fi gures in Islam, had a life-changing experience at the age of forty. Turning one’s life around in the fortieth year is a recurring motif in Muslim biogra- phies, and, if it applies here, it would confi rm our conclusion that al-Ghaza¯lı¯ was born in or around 448/1056. There has been a lot of speculation about the reasons for al-Ghaza¯lı¯’s turn in his lifestyle and his rapprochement with Sufi sm that culminated in the trip Download 4.03 Mb. Do'stlaringiz bilan baham: 
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