Interpreting Political Violence in Islamic
Philosophy
Mohammad Azadpur
San Francisco State University
Part 1
The tragic events of September the eleventh and
the crisis in the Middle East have simultaneously
brought to the forefront of people�s minds so-called
Islamic terrorism � and caused them to question its
roots. "Terrorism,� according to Noam Chomsky, is not
a difficult term to define. � In "The Evil Scourge of
Terrorism," he refers to a "U.S. Army manual �
[which] defines terrorism as 'the calculated use of
violence or threat of violence to attain goals that
are political, religious, or ideological in nature.
This is done through intimidation, coercion, or
instilling fear.'"[1]�� Chomsky clarifies
this by reference to "a Pentagon-commissioned study
by noted terrorologist Robert Kupperman, which speaks
of the threat or use of force 'to achieve political
objectives without the full-scale commitment of
resources.'"[2]� Chomsky's article is
aimed at the problematic inclusiveness of the
definition of "terrorism," its propensity to
encompass some of the international engagements of
the government of the United States. ��In this essay,
I am not interested in debating the range of the
various forms of terrorism, nor am I interested in
exploring the meaning of "Islamic terrorism," a label
used to identify the activities of radical Islamic
factions who, for the sake of a political ideology,
engage in violent and destructive behavior towards
the innocent. � Rather, I want to focus on a more
basic issue: the relation between Islamic political
thought and political violence, a concept under which
terrorism is subsumed. More specifically, I am
concerned with the question whether, in the Islamic
context, there is a necessary internal connection
between philosophical reflections on the nature of
the political life and the appeal to violence or the
threat of its use. It is my position that such a
connection does not exist, and that the ground for
the appeal to politically motivated violence in the
Islamic context must be sought elsewhere.
My strategy for arguing this is straightforward. �
I first identify two main traditions in Islamic
political philosophy whose focus is the relation
between the good life and political activity. No
matter which of these traditions we investigate, we
find some philosophers who advocate violence and
others who condemn it. � This demonstrates that there
is no logical or cultural axiom that forces an appeal
to violence in the context of Islamic political
philosophy! � The reasons for the endorsement of
violence become accessible when we refrain from
seeking a theoretical basis for it in Islamic thought
and attend to the specific historical contexts within
which violence has been endorsed. � This conclusion
has important implications for the current
discussions of "Islamic terrorism. " It means,
essentially, that we have to search long and hard for
reasons to appeal to (and support) political violence
in the Islamic world � and, moreover, our search must
be directed at concrete historical situations
that might have occasioned violence. This essay will
conclude with some reflections on this direction of
thought.
Part 2.
According to the great scholar of Islamic thought,
Louis Massignon, Islamic thought reconciles Greek
philosophy and Abrahamic monotheism. � At the outset
of this discussion, however, I want to emphasize that
the Greeks and Muslims have quite a different
conception of philosophy than the one advocated by
today's mainstream academic philosophers. Philosophy
is, for them, not just a theoretical examination of
concepts of and arguments concerning the various
subjects of inquiry. � It is, rather, a way of life.
� In a treatise titled The Attainment of
Happiness, Alfarabi (Abū Nasr Muhammad al-Fārābi,
870-950 CE) widely known as the second teacher (after
Aristotle) and the founder of Islamic political
philosophy, distinguishes between true philosophy and
that which is counterfeit. � He writes:
As for mutilated philosophy: the counterfeit
philosopher, the vain philosopher, or the false
philosopher is the one who sets out to study the
theoretical sciences without being prepared for
them. � For he who sets out to inquire ought to be
innately equipped for the theoretical sciences �
that is, fulfill the conditions prescribed by Plato
in the Republic: he should excel in
comprehending and conceiving that which is
essential � He should by natural disposition
disdain the appetites, the dinar, and like. He
should be high-minded and avoid what is disgraceful
in people. � He should be pious, yield easily to
goodness and justice, and be stubborn in yielding
to evil and injustice. � And he should be strongly
determined in favor of the right thing.[3]
The cultivation and improvement of character
therefore constitutes the centerpiece of Alfarabi's
notion of true philosophy. � In contemporary
Anglo-American academic philosophy, it is merely an
aspect of the sub-discipline of ethics. � For the
Greeks and the Muslims, the acquisition of virtue
(Gr. arētē, Ar. fadl), the perfection
of character, paves the way for the intellectual
labors of theoretical inquiry. � It allows the
individual to resist extraneous goals and
distractions and attend to the problems of thought
and action. In the words of Alfarabi, a virtuous
person excels "in comprehending and conceiving that
which is essential."[4]
Part 3.
In the Republic, Plato's Socrates portrays
an ideal � the virtuous or just person � as the
philosopher-king: He is an individual whose
cultivated practical and theoretical sensibilities
enable him to be the ultimate lawgiver. In the ideal
city, Plato's philosopher is dragged from his
solitary theoretical occupation into the work of
ruling the city, as he is the best person for
legislating right and wrong. His virtue enables him
to maintain order in the city for the sake of
justice, which, in turn, enables the citizens to
actualize their potential for virtue. � Early Islamic
Peripatetics or mashshā'ūn (e.g., Alfarabi),
begin the process of reconciling the Greek with the
Islamic tradition by attaching the quality of
prophecy to the Greek ideal of the human
individual.[5] � In other words, for
them the ideal human being is not just a philosopher
and legislator (king); he is also a prophet
(nabi).
This move (i.e., the addition of the quality of
prophecy to the ideals of philosophy and kingship) is
aimed, in part, at bringing the Greek ideal into
closer correspondence with the Islamic exemplar,
Prophet Muhammad. The Prophet, according to the
Islamic tradition, has three basic attributes:
walāyah (friendship/intimacy with God),
nubuwwah (prophecy), and risālah
(conveying the divine law).[6]� For the Islamic
Peripatetics, the analogue to walāyah is
philosophy, since a philosopher's practical and
theoretical excellence brings him near the divine
intellect.[7] � Nubuwwah, on
the other hand, culminates in the practice
(tariqah) set forth by the Prophet so that
through its discipline the faithful can accomplish
the ideal of intimacy with the divine. � Alfarabi
also specifies prophecy further in order to include
the more common attributes of the prophet, i.e., the
ability to foretell the future and have visions of
the spiritual realm. � For him, prophecy is the
perfected faculty of imagination impregnated by the
divine intellect.[8]� Finally, the ideal
political state (madīnat al-fādilah) �
according to Muslim Peripatetics � is one which is so
organized that it brings the citizens as close as
they can possibly be to a state of personal
excellence. � It is governed by the shari'a,
the divine law, which the philosopher/prophet
(utilizing the quality of risālah) legislates
in order to make perfection available to all members
of the community.
Some of the Islamic philosophers emphasize the
individual's struggle for excellence; for them, the
inquiry into the ideal state is not a political
program per se; it is rather the project of
bringing to light the need for � and motivating the
achievement of � the just (virtuous, fādil)
soul. � This harkens back to the Republic:� in
order to define what a just individual is, Socrates
declares that it is easier to define justice in the
city first and then, by establishing an analogy
between the city and the individual, arrive at the
definition of justice in the person. � Socrates'
strategy accords with his later contention that
justice is primarily an attribute of persons and
characters, and then only derivatively a property of
laws, the social structure of the city-state, or the
quality of our actions.[9]� Although the thrust of
Socrates' arguments seems to be that happiness is not
something that you calculate and maximize (it is
intrinsic to the just life), one cannot help but
notice the subservience of the city and citizenship
to the demands of personal excellence. � To put it
more precisely, participation in the city is
necessary for the achievement of virtue, but, upon
acquiring virtue, the individual does not need to
engage in political activity. � In fact, he shuns the
city and seeks the solitude necessary to
philosophize, and, in the end, he must be forced to
return and take on the responsibilities of
rulership.
In contrast to Plato's account of the relation
between the virtuous person and the city, Aristotle
claims, in his Politics, that human beings are
by nature political.[10] Aristotle's virtuous
person � in contrast to the Platonic exemplar �
cultivates friendships willingly and engages in
political activity. � It is important to understand
that the Islamic philosophers vary in their
commitment to political Aristotelianism or Platonism.
� But no matter which political stance they adopt,
they respond ambiguously to the appeal to force or
the threat of force as a means of realizing the ideal
state. � In itself, this is, I would argue, an
important historical fact: it undermines the claim
that there is a necessary connection between Islamic
political philosophy and violence. �
Part 4. �
Let us begin with political Platonists: � Avicenna
(Abū 'Alī al-Husayn Ibn Sīnā, 980-1037 CE), for
example, supports the Platonic view that the virtuous
human being transcends the limitations of the
political and engages in solitary intellectual
inquiry, which may culminate in divine
enlightenment.[11] � Political
legislation, according to Avicenna, necessitates
rarefaction of divine wisdom.[12] � It is an activity
that the ideal person performs for the sake of
maintaining the basic associations needed to
cultivate virtue,[13] and not a necessary
part of its practice.
Despite the fact that he sees political activity
as having only instrumental value, Avicenna
nevertheless prescribes the use of violence as a
means of ensuring that the best possible individual
be placed in a position of power, namely the
philosopher/prophet. � In the Shifā , he
argues that:
the legislator must then decree in his law that if
someone secedes and lays claim to the caliphate by
virtue of power and wealth, then it becomes the
duty of every citizen to fight and kill him. � If
the citizens are capable of so doing but refrain
from doing so, then they disobey God and commit an
act of unbelief. � The blood of anyone who can
fight but refrains becomes free for the spilling
after this fact is established in the assembly of
all.[14]
However, he qualifies this endorsement of violence
by claiming that a leader must have independent
judgment, be endowed with the noble qualities of
courage, temperance, and good governance, and know
the law to a degree unsurpassed by anyone
else.[15]�� Fighting on behalf
of such a leader (once we have found him), may not be
so bad, but it is difficult for most any individual
to demonstrate that he possesses such qualities of
leadership. � But if he does, Avicenna urges us to
accept his rule: "If the seceder, however, verifies
that the one holding the caliphate is not fit for it,
that he is afflicted with an imperfection, and that
this imperfection is not found in the seceder, then
it is best that the citizens accept the
latter."[16]
The Sunni theologian and philosopher, Abu Hamid
Muhammad al-Ghazzālī (1058-1111), attacks the early
Peripatetics (including Avicenna) for their
unfettered endorsement of the power of human
intellect. � He uses philosophical arguments, drawn
from the arsenal of the Greek Skeptical tradition, to
limit the scope of the philosophical quality
attributed to the ideal person. � Ghazzālī argues
that the intellect (the philosopher's privileged
faculty) cannot provide access to the inner meaning
of the prophetic revelations.[17] � He construes
nearness to God (walāyah) as the achievement
of practical excellence � in the manner of
Sufis.[18] � The ideal person is
then the mystic/prophet/lawgiver, and the successors
are the Sufis (in spiritual affairs), the
ulemā (in matters pertaining to religious
doctrine), and the caliphs or the sultans (in matters
of governance).
Despite his attack on the mashshā'ūn,
Ghazzālī remains faithful to the Platonic thesis
concerning the relation between the political life
and the cultivation of the self. � Political activity
is only a means for achieving personal excellence and
salvation; in fact, according to Ghazzālī, political
order must be maintained, even if the state and its
ruler are unjust. In the Ihyā Ūlūm al-Dīn,
Ghazzālī claims that "an evil-doing and barbarous
sultan, so long as he is supported by military force,
so that he can with difficulty be deposed, and that
the attempt to depose him would create unendurable
civil strife, must of necessity be left in
possession, and obedience must be rendered to
him."[19] � This is clearly a
strong prohibition of the use of violence (or the
threat of its use) for political gain.
Part 5.
In his work, On the Perfect State, Alfarabi
accepts the Platonic ideal of the virtuous person,
but he reconciles it with the Aristotelian stance on
the status of political activity in the good life �
the life led by the virtuous. � According to
Aristotle, as we have seen, human beings are by
nature political. � Therefore, the virtuous person
must also cultivate the political dimension of his
soul and exercise it in the political life � life in
the polis.[20]� In this same vein,
Alfarabi maintains that the achievement of personal
virtue is not the culmination of happiness or
fulfillment (sa'ādah). � Rather this
fulfillment requires that one dwells in a virtuous
city (madīnah), a city where co-operation is
the order of the day as far as the exercise of virtue
is concerned. � He writes:
The most excellent good and the utmost perfection
is, in the first instance, attained in a city, not
in a society which is less complete than it. � But,
since good in its real sense is such as to be
attainable through choice and will and evils are
also due to will and choice, only a city may be
established to enable its people to co-operate in
attaining some ends that are evil. � Hence felicity
is not attainable in every city. � The city, then,
in which people aim through association at
co-operating for the things by which felicity in
its real and true sense can be attained, is the
excellent city.[21]
Alfarabi admits the Platonic view that virtue,
"utmost perfection", requires a city as the smallest
co-operative unit, which satisfies all the needs of
the community. However, he also embraces
Aristotelianism, when he claims that "felicity in its
real and true sense" can only be attained in the
excellent city, through the exercise of excellence in
a political context (involving co-operation). �
In regard to the political use of violence,
Alfarabi rejects � as ignorant � cities which are
instituted upon the appeal to violence as the
principle ground for instilling order and maintaining
obedience to authority. �� He also declares that
practical cities (not ideal ones) can be classified
as either peace-loving or war-mongering, and that the
citizens of peace-loving ones are free from
everything unsound in their nature.[22]
In the Nasirean Ethics, the Shiite
philosopher and theologian, Khāwjah Nasīr ad-Dīn Tūsī
(1201-74), identifies the qualities of the
philosophical and political ideal in a
characteristically Shiite (mainly Isma'ili) manner.
According to Tūsī , the enactment of contracts, the
management of a kingdom, and the administration of a
city require a philosopher/prophet/legislator, "the
possessor of law" (sāhib-e namūs) or "the
speaker" (nātiq). � Aside from the
promulgation of religious law, each age is in need of
a philosopher/ruler, the "absolute regulator of the
world" (malik 'alā al-itlaq; also referred to
as imām or asās). � He writes:
In short, not every age and generation has need of
a Possessor of the Law, for one enactment suffices
for the people of many periods; but the world does
require a Regulator in every age, for if management
ceases, order is taken away likewise, and the
survival of the species in the most perfect manner
cannot be realized.[23]
Tūsī makes sure that the emphasis is placed on the
perfection of the human species rather than its
survival. � He goes on to say that the goal of the
science of politics is the study of universal laws,
which are given by the nātiq and maintained by
the asās. � The purpose of the laws is the
production of "the best interest of the generality
inasmuch as they are directed, through co-operation,
to true perfection."[24] � This is virtue or
excellence, which I mentioned earlier as constituting
the core of Islamic and Greek philosophy. � But, like
Alfarabi, Tūsī appropriates the Aristotelian position
and claims that man is by nature political.[25] � In
the same vein, he contends that the perfect man is
not solitary,[26] but rather requires a
city, a civil society. � He writes:
Now, since natural fellowship is one of the
properties of men, and inasmuch as the perfection
of any thing lies in the manifestation of its
property �, so the perfection of this species too
lies in the manifestation of this property to its
own kind. � This property, moreover, is the
principle of the love calling forth civilized life
and the (social) synthesis.[27]
Tūsī's view differs from Aristotle's in the way he
characterizes the human characteristics exhibited in
the civilized life. � Aristotle considered friendship
as perhaps the primary political feature of
man,[28] whereas Tūsī opts for
a more comprehensive attribute: love. � "Love is more
general than friendship, for Love is conceivable amid
a swarming throng, but Friendship does not reach this
degree of comprehensiveness."[29]
According to Khāwjah Nasīr ad-Dī n, if a king
abandons his concern for justice and the good and
gives "himself up to enjoyment and pleasure-seeking
�, confusion and infirmity overtake the city's
business �, felicity turns to misery, close
association becomes hatred and affection is replaced
by distance �, [and] the people of such an age remain
without the possibility of acquiring goods."[30] � In
such a situation, Tūsī promotes political activism,
involving the use of violence (his co-operation with
Isma'ilis of alamūt and later with Hūlāgū,
against the Abbasid caliph, testifies to
this).[31] � He writes: "At such
a time, it becomes necessary to take up once more
(the process of) management and seek the Imam of
Truth and the Just King."[32]
The Andalusian Avempace (Abu Bakr Muhammad ibn
Bajjā h, d. 1138) is, like Tūsī, an Aristotelian in
his conception of the perfect individual's relation
to the city. � He writes that "man is political by
nature, and � all isolation is evil."[33]�
However, he differs from Tūsī in an interesting way.
He does not prescribe active involvement in
undermining the unjust city and overthrowing its
ruler, but rather he advocates the solitary life:
�
The happy, were it possible for them to exist in
these [unjust] cities, will possess only the
happiness of an isolated individual, and the only
right governance [possible in these cities] is the
governance of the isolated individual, regardless
of whether there is one isolated individual or more
than one, so long as a nation or a city has not
adopted their opinion.[34]
As to why the solitary life is not an evil in this
case, he writes that isolation "is only evil as such;
accidentally it may be good � For instance, bread and
meat are by nature beneficial and nourishing, while
opium and colocynth are mortal poisons. � But the
body may possess certain unnatural states in which
the latter two are beneficial and must be employed,
and the natural nourishment is harmful and must be
avoided. � However, such states are necessarily
diseases and deviations from the natural
order."[35]� In a diseased
political state, Avempace prescribes solitariness as
an antidote to overcoming the evils of injustice. �
This, of course, implies a rejection of the appeal to
violence in the face of unjust political
conditions.
Part 6.
Since the nineteenth century the call to active
participation in overcoming political stagnation and
injustice has pervaded the political discourse of
prominent Islamic philosophers. � In the writings of
such figures as Sayyid Jam ā l ad-D ī n al-Afgh ā n ī
(1837-97) and Muhammad Iqbā l (1877-1938), an ideal
Islamic state is to be promoted through a concrete
political program � involving the use of violence �
so as to awaken the slumbering masses and effect
their rectitude and enlightenment. � Afghānī argues
for the institution of an Islamic state as a
pragmatic solution to the plight of colonized
Muslims. � A strict Islamic state mobilizes the
Muslim masses and instills the necessary values to
enable them to become culturally and economically
competitive with the Europeans.[36]� For Iqbā l, on
the other hand, the institution of an Islamic state
disciplines the individual so that he can break out
of the narrowness of taqlīd (imitation of an
exemplar), and exercise ijtihād (independent
judgment).[37]
Rūhollāh Khomeini's (1902-89) notion of governance
of the jurist (velā yat-e faqīh) is also an
example of the appropriation of the
philosophical/Islamic ideal for a specific political
program. � Khomeini argues that the jurists
(fuqahā ) are the true representatives of the
hidden Imam.[38]� In a limited way,
they evidence his wal ā yah, the
quality that puts the Imam in possession of the inner
meaning of the revelation. � As such, in Khomeini's
activist appropriation of the Islamic philosophical
tradition, a just jurist (faqīh) is not only
the authority in religious and legal matters; he is
also the perfect political leader. � A government of
the juristsis the only government, according to
Khomeini, that can be just (i.e., it can preserve
Islamic ideals and lift Muslims from the misery
brought upon them by their oppressors).[39]�
Furthermore, the achievement of independent judgment
(ijtihād), which is considered to be the
culmination of a jurist's course of study, is limited
by the larger, extant political goal of maintaining
the clerical regime.[40]
Part 7. �
In conclusion, I want to emphasize that the
justification of (violent) activism, so prominent in
modern Islamic political thought, is not due to a
specific theoretical orientation within Islam's
scholarly tradition. As we have noted in regard to
the earlier history of Islamic political thought,
different philosophical positions (concerning the
nature of the political) admit of contradictory
interpretations regarding the use of violence. � The
adoption of an activist (involving the use of
violence) or a pacifist (non-violent) interpretation
of them has nothing to do with the intrinsic features
of the theory � and everything to do with the
specific historical context and the political
involvements of the relevant thinker. Nasīr ad-Dī n
Tūsī's engagement in the Mongol invasion of Iran, and
the overthrow of the Abbasid Baghdad was (likely) the
main motivation for his activist appropriation of
Aristotelian political philosophy.[41]� Avicenna's
implication in the political activities of the Bū yid
kings and their manipulation of the Caliphate
motivates, in my view, his activism.[42]� Ghazzālī's
pacifism, on the other hand, is prompted by his
alliance with the Seljuk court and his condemnation
of the Shiite opposition to the rule of its
Sultans.[43] Alfarabi and Avempace
advocated pacifism, I believe, mainly because of
their commitment to the contemplative life and their
lack of interest in political intrigue.[44]
The call to violent uprising in modern
Islamic political philosophy is also due to the
specific concerns of its diverse authors. � Each of
the thinkers mentioned above was actively involved in
establishing a new political order. �Afghani's
political activities spanned the whole of the Middle
East, from India through Afghanistan, Iran, and
Turkey to Egypt. �He is best known for his
anti-British position, his advocacy of a pan-Islamic
state, and his participation in the assassination of
Nāsir ad-Dīn Shāh.[45]� Iqbāl's political
activities in regard to establishing a separate
Muslim Indian state led his followers to reserve for
him the posthumous title of "the spiritual father of
Pakistan." [46] Khomeini's
denunciation of the Pahlavi dynasty culminated in his
assumption of the leadership of Iran. in
1978.[47]� What is fascinating
is perhaps not the philosophical legitimization of
political violence offered by these thinkers, but the
relative popularity of these interpretations among
some Muslims today. This popularity does not have to
do with the claimed ascendancy of violence in the
Islamic culture. As we have seen, the philosophical
tradition � at least � vacillates between endorsing
violence and advocating non-violence. � Instead, I
would argue that the appeal of violence in modern
Islamic world is directly proportional to the
increased level of tyrannical manipulations taking
place there. Confronted with various forms of
colonialism, imperialism, and totalitarianism,
desperate people find themselves in desperate
situations. � It is therefore not surprising that
some of them turn to violence.
ENDNOTES
[1]Noam Chomsky, "The Evil
Scourge of Terrorism," �
http://www.unet.univie.ac.at/~a9504438/Uni/c-terrorism.htm
(5 Dec. 2001).
[2] Chomsky, "The Evil Scourge
of Terrorism."
[3] Abū Nasr al-Farabi, "The
Attainment of Happiness," in Medieval Political
Philosophy: A Sourcebook, eds. Ralph Lerner and
Muhsin Mahdi (Ithaca: Cornell University Press,
1961), 80.
[4] Ibid.
[5] According to Aristotle,
ethical standards are not abstract moral principles
(as prevalent in modern moral philosophy); rather
they are given by moral exemplars, the
spoudaios or phronimos, i.e.,
practically wise person ["Nicomachean Ethics," in
The Basic Works of Aristotle, ed. Richard
McKeon (New York: Random House, 1941), 1140a25-28,
1143b21-25].
[6] For a more detailed
discussion of this doctrine, refer to Henry Corbin's
History of Islamic Philosophy, trans. Liadain
Sherrard (London: Kegan Paul International, 1993),
39-45.
[7] For a more detailed
discussion of this parallel, especially in relation
to the thought of Alfarabi, refer to Corbin's
History of Islamic Philosophy, 162-5. �
[8] Abū Nasr al-Farabi, On
the Perfect State, trans. Richard Walzer (Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 1985), 225.
[9] Plato, "Republic," in
The Collected Dialogues of Plato, eds. Edith
Hamilton and Huntington Cairns (Princeton: Princeton
University Press, 1962), 442a-445e.
[10] � Aristotle, "Politica,"
in The Basic Works of Aristotle, ed. Richard
McKeon (New York: Random House, 1941), 253a1-3.
[11] � Avicenna, "On the
Proof of Prophecies and the Interpretation of the
Prophets' Symbols and Metaphors," in Medieval
Political Philosophy: A Sourcebook, eds. Ralph
Lerner and Muhsin Mahdi (Ithaca: � Cornell University
Press, 1961), 114-5.
[12] � Avicenna, "On the
Proof of Prophecies �," 116.
[13] � Avicenna,
"Healing: Metaphysics X," in Medieval
Political Philosophy: A Sourcebook, eds. Ralph
Lerner and Muhsin Mahdi (Ithaca: � Cornell University
Press, 1961), 99.
[14] Avicenna, "Healing:
Metaphysics X," 107.
[15] � Ibid.
[16] Avicenna,
"Healing: Metaphysics X," 110.
[17] For a treatment of the
limitations of human intellect, refer to Ghazzā l ī
's "Deliverance from Error and Attachment to the Lord
of High and Majesty," in The Faith and Practice of
Ghazālī , trans. W. Montgomery Watt (London:
George Allen and Unwin Ltd., 1967), 15.
[18] Ghazzālī, "Deliverance,"
54-63.
[19] Quoted in Anthony
Black's The History of Islamic Political
Thought (New York: Routledge, 2001) 104.
[20] For a defense of the
claim that Aristotle's Politics, or at least
relevant parts of it, were available to al-Farabi,
refer to S. Pines, "Aristotle's Politics in Arabic
Philosophy," in Israel Oriental Studies 5
(1975) 150-60. � Muhsin Mahdi, in Alfarabi and the
Foundations of Islamic Political Philosophy,
argues that the primary objective of Alfarabi's
efforts in On the Perfect State and
Political Regime is political. � He maintains
these texts are "models to guide future legislators
in establishing new cities. � Models of this kind �
are artful productions created by the teachers of
legislators with an eye to general habits, character,
opinions, and conditions, and these the legislator
will adjust further with a view to a particular city
under particular conditions" (Chicago: The University
of Chicago Press, 2001), 123. � This is an
interesting interpretation that reveals the
Aristotelian dimension of Alfarabi's philosophy,
according to which the madī nah is seen to be
necessary for the exercise of excellence.
[21] Al-Fārābī, On Perfect
State, 231.
[22] Al-Fārābī, On the
Perfect State , 315.
[23] � Nasīr ad-Dīn Tūsī,
Nasirean Ethics, trans. G. M. Wickens (London:
Allen & Unwin, 1964), 192.
[24] Ibid.
[25] Nasīr ad-Dīn Tūsī's
political thought betrays a remarkable familiarity
with Aristotle's Politics [Black, The
History of Islamic Political Thought, 149].
[26] Tūsī, Nasirean
Ethics, 242.
[27] Tūsī, Nasirean
Ethics, 199.
[28] Aristotle, "Nicomachean
Ethics," 1169b3-1170b20.
[29] Tūsī, Nasirean
Ethics, 197.
[30] Tūsī, Nasirean
Ethics, 233.
[31] For a biography of Tūsī,
refer to Hamid Dabashi's � "Khāwjah Nasīr al-Dīn
al-Tūsī: the philosopher/vizier and the intellectual
climate of his times," in History of Islamic
Philosophy: Part One, eds. Seyyed Hossein Nasr
and Oliver Leaman (New York: Routlege, 1996),
527-584.
[32] Tūsī , Nasirean
Ethics, 233-4.
[33] Avempace, "The
Governance of the Solitary," in Medieval Political
Philosophy: A Sourcebook, eds. Ralph Lerner and
Muhsin Mahdi (Ithaca: � Cornell University Press,
1961), 132.
[34] Avempace, "The
Governance of the Solitary," 128.
[35] Avempace, "The
Governance of the Solitary," 132-3.
[36] Keddie, Nikki R. � An
Islamic Response to Imperialism: Political and
Religious Writings of Sayyid Jamāl ad-Dīn
al-Afghānī (Berkeley; University of California
Press, 1968), 36-45.
[37] Iqbāl, Muhammad. � "The
Principle of Movement in Structure of Islam," in
The Reconstruction of Religious Thought in
Islam (Lahore: Sh. Muhammad Ashraf, 1965),
146-180.
[38] Rūhollāh Khomeini,
"Islamic Government," in Islam and Revolution,
trans. Hamid Algar (London: KPI, 1985), 82-4.
[39] Khomeini, "Islamic
Government," 84.
[40] This constraint has
continuously justified appeals to violence and the
threat of violence by the clerics who belong to the
circle of power in today's Iran .
[41] Dabashi," Khāwjah Nasīr
al-Dīn al-Tūsī," 530-2.
[42] See Avicenna's
autobiography in William E. Gohlman's The Life of
Ibn Sina (Albany: SUNY Press, 1974), 16-113. �
For a short biography of Avicenna, refer to D.
Gutas's "Avicenna II: Biography," in Encyclopaedia
Iranica, Vol. 3, ed. Ehsan Yarshater (New York:
Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1989), 67-70.
[43] Refer to W. Montgomery
Watt's "Al-Ghazali and Later Ash'arites," in
Islamic Philosophy and Theology (Edinburgh:
Edinburgh University Press, 1985), 85-97.
[44] For an account of
al-Fārābi's life, refer to Richard Walzer's account
of his life in the introduction to On the Perfect
State, 1-4. � For a short account of Avempace's
life, refer to D. M. Dunlop's entry in
Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd Edition,
Volume 3, ed. H.A.R. Gibb (London: Luzac, 1971),
728.
[45] Keddie, � An Islamic
Response to Imperialism, 30-2.
[46] Kurzman, Charles. �
Liberal Islam: A Sourcebook (New York: Oxford
University press, 1998), 255.
[47] Algar, Hamid. �
"Introduction of the Translator," in Islam and
Revolution, 13-23.
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