MAIMONIDES AND SPINOZA ON GOD
169
Maimonides’ God and
Spinoza’s Deus sive Natura
*CARLOS FRAENKEL
INTRODUCTION
ACCORDING TO H. A. WOLFSON,
Spinoza played a crucial role in the history of philosophy. His work marks the end of “Philonic philosophy,” the period in which philosophy had served as ancilla theologiae. This period, in Wolfson’s view, begins with
the Hellenistic-Jewish philosopher Philo of Alexandria, who revised “Greek philosophic concepts” in the light of Scripture. His interpretatio hebraica of Greek philosophy became
the foundation of the common philosophy of the three religions with cognate Scriptures—Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. This triple religious philosophy . . . reigned
supreme as a homogeneous, if not a completely unified, system of thought until the
seventeenth century, when it was overthrown by Spinoza, for the philosophy of
Spinoza, properly understood, is primarily a criticism of the common elements in
this triple religious philosophy. (70)1
In the last chapter of his comprehensive study of Spinoza’s thought against the
background of medieval philosophy, Wolfson sums up what he considers to be
Spinoza’s most important innovation:
[What had been] established by the intrepidity and daring of Spinoza was the principle of the unity of nature, which in its double aspect meant the homogeneity of the
material of which it is constituted and the uniformity of the laws by which it is dominated.2
1
Harry A. Wolfson, “Philo Judaeus,” in: Studies in the History of Philosophy and Religion, vol. 1
(Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1973), 60–70. Cf. his Philo: Foundations of Religious Philosophy in Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, 2 vols. (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1947), in
particular the last chapter: “What is new in Philo?”, vol. 2, 439–60. A good account of Wolfson’s
concept of the history of philosophy is given by Warren Z. Harvey, “Hebraism and Western Philosophy
in H. A. Wolfson’s Theory of History,” Daat 4 (1980): 103–10 (Heb.).
2
H. A. Wolfson, The Philosophy of Spinoza: Unfolding the Latent Process of His Reasoning [Spinoza], 2
vols. (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1934), here: vol. 2, 331. On the central purpose of
Spinoza’s work according to Wolfson, see also vol. 1, 33–34.
*Carlos Fraenkel is Assistant Professor of Philosophy and Jewish Studies at McGill University.
Journal of the History of Philosophy, vol. 44, no. 2 (2006) 169–215
[169]
170
JOURNAL OF THE HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
44:2
APRIL
2006
For philosophers previous to Spinoza, Wolfson notes, “the universe as a whole
was . . . divided into two distinct realms, a material world and an immaterial God.”
God as well as other immaterial beings “had nothing in common with bodies, not
having matter as their substratum.”3
Wolfson’s assessment, I think, is in part right, and in part wrong. Wolfson is
right insofar as Spinoza established the unity of “that eternal and infinite being
that we call God, or Nature [quod Deum, seu Naturam appellamus]” (E IV, Praef. / G.
II, 206).4 And “God, or Nature,” according to Spinoza, acts according to “laws
and rules” (leges & regulae) that “are everywhere [ubique] and always [semper] the
same” (E III, Praef. / G. II, 138). In my view Wolfson is wrong, however, in the
historical role that he assigned to Spinoza. In this respect, I will argue, he presents
a distorted picture. It does justice neither to the perception that Spinoza himself
had of his relation to the medieval philosophical tradition nor to his role as it
emerges from a comparison between his Deus sive Natura and the medieval doctrine of God. I will try to show that what in Wolfson’s view was a revolution in the
history of philosophy, in Spinoza’s view was no more than the dispersion of a cloud.5
This paper is intended as a contribution towards the understanding of how
Spinoza’s monism is related to the monotheism of a distinct tradition in medieval
Aristotelianism. If we focus on Deus and disregard Natura, and if we translate monos
theos not as “only one God exists” but as “only God exists,” then Spinoza’s position
can also be described as “monotheistic.” What I wish to suggest, however, is not a
word game. Rather, the translation “only God exists” in my view characterizes the
monotheism of both Spinoza and the Aristotelians.6 I will argue for the following
four points: First, Spinoza himself explicitly refers to the medieval doctrine as an
anticipation of his concept of God. Second, the God of the Aristotelian tradition
in question indeed shares the basic features of Spinoza’s Deus sive Natura. Third,
Spinoza was familiar with all significant aspects of the medieval doctrine. Fourth,
the steps leading from the medieval doctrine to Spinoza can be reconstructed on
the basis of passages in his early works and in the Ethics.
3
Wolfson, Spinoza, vol. 2, 333.
I quote Spinoza according to Carl Gebhardt’s edition: Opera, 4 vols. (Heidelberg: Carl Winters
Universitätsbuchhandlung, 1925) [henceforth: G. (= Gebhardt) vol. no., page no.]. I will use the
following abbreviations: CM = Cogitata Metaphysica; E = Ethica; Ep. = Epistolae; KV = Korte Verhandeling
van God, de Mensch en des Zelfs Welstand; PP = Renati Descartes Principiorum Philosophiae Pars I. & II.; TTP
= Tractatus Theologico-Politicus.
5
Of course Wolfson was not the only scholar who credited Spinoza with a philosophical revolution. For other scholars emphasizing Spinoza’s break with the philosophical tradition, see my discussion in Appendix 1.
6
The Aristotelian tradition in question is certainly not the only tradition in medieval thought
which crossed the boundary between monotheism and monism. In fact, this appears to be a common
feature of a variety of intellectual currents, both philosophical and mystical, which in part draw on the
same sources, most importantly Neoplatonic sources. Let me only mention the doctrine of “the unity
of being
” central to the theosophy of Ibn al-‘Arabi (1164–1240), in which, among others,
Neoplatonic and Sufi doctrines come together. In passing it may be noted that the relationship between God, God’s names and God’s creation in Ibn al-‘Arabi bears an interesting resemblance to the
relationship between substance, attributes and modes in Spinoza’s ontology, no doubt due to
Neoplatonic influences present in both their works. It is, however, not the purpose of this paper to
present a comprehensive account of parallels between medieval doctrines of God and Spinoza’s metaphysics.
4
MAIMONIDES AND SPINOZA ON GOD
171
As for the Aristotelian tradition, my analysis will focus on Maimonides. It is
important to emphasize that I do not maintain that the doctrine is specifically
Maimonidean, or that Maimonides was Spinoza’s only source. All I suggest is that
Maimonides holds the doctrine in question, that Spinoza knew Maimonides’ version of it, and that the doctrine influenced Spinoza. As S. Pines showed, among
the doctrine’s main sources is the Neoplatonic interpretation of Aristotle’s divine
nou'" in the paraphrase of Metaphysics XII written by the 4th century Byzantine commentator of Aristotle, Themistius.7 Themistius’s paraphrase influenced both directly and indirectly a wide range of medieval Islamic, Jewish and Christian
Aristotelians, some of whom Spinoza knew, and some of whom may have influenced him indirectly. The decision to focus on Maimonides is based on two considerations: one is that Maimonides fully adopted the doctrine in question, and
thus is well suited to exemplify its radical implications; the other is that we have a
sufficiently large amount of evidence to substantiate the general claim that
Maimonides had a significant influence on different aspects of Spinoza’s thought.8
My purpose in this paper is, therefore, only to lay out the intellectual setting in
which the relationship of Spinoza’s Deus sive Natura to medieval Aristotelian metaphysics can be understood. I intend to complement it in the near future through
a historical study, in which I will present a comprehensive survey of the Aristotelian thinkers in the Islamic, Jewish and Christian traditions who played a role in
the transmission of the doctrine from Themistius to Spinoza.
With these qualifications in mind, the transformation of Maimonides’ God,
defined as “intellectual activity” (Arabic: lq[la l[p) (Guide I, 68, 113),9 into the
“active essence” (actuosa essentia) (E II, Prop. 3 Schol. / G. II, 87) of Spinoza’s
7
Shlomo Pines, “Some Distinctive Metaphysical Conceptions in Themistius’ Commentary on
Book Lambda and Their Place in the History of Philosophy” [“Themistius”], in Shlomo Pines, Studies
in the History of Arabic Philosophy [= Collected Works, vol. 3], ed. Sarah Stroumsa (Jerusalem: The
Hebrew University Magnes Press, 1996), and see my brief discussion of a passage from Themistius’s
paraphrase below.
8
On Spinoza’s knowledge of Maimonides, see Leon Roth, Spinoza, Descartes, and Maimonides
[Spinoza] (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1924), 102–6. That Spinoza was thoroughly familiar with
Maimonides’ philosophy by the time he wrote the Ethics is indirectly attested by the Theological-Political
Treatise, on which he started working in 1665, interrupting his work on the Ethics. For the development and chronology of Spinoza’s work until the publication of the TTP, see Steven Nadler, Spinoza: A
Life [Spinoza] (Cambridge, U.K. / New York: Cambridge University Press, 1999), 175–286. The use
and critique of Maimonides in the TTP is that of a “careful and perspicacious reader” as S. Pines
pointed out. Pines, “Spinoza’s Tractatus, Maimonides and Kant” [“Spinoza’s Tractatus”], Scripta
Hierosolymitana 20 (1968), 3–54. See already Manuel Joel’s many references to Maimonides in his
study of the sources of the TTP: Spinozas theologisch-politischer Traktat auf seine Quellen geprüft [Quellen]
(Breslau: Schletter’sche Buchhandlung, 1870). A comprehensive bibliography of the scholarship on
the relationship between Maimonides and Spinoza was prepared by Jacob Dienstag, “The Relation of
Spinoza to the Philosophy of Maimonides,” Studia Spinozana 2 (1986), 375–416. Since L. Roth the
most detailed argument for “a distinctive Maimonidean influence on Spinoza’s philosophy” has been
presented by Warren Z. Harvey, “A Portrait of Spinoza as a Maimonidean” [“Portrait”], Journal of the
History of Philosophy 19, No. 2 (1981), 151–72. Harvey arrives at the following conclusion: “The Spinoza
who has been sketched . . . in the preceding portrait was a Maimonidean in the sense that fundamental elements of Maimonides’ philosophy recur as fundamental elements of his philosophy. This is
true, as I have tried to show, with regard to questions of psychology, epistemology, ethics, anthropology, politics, metaphysics and true religion; that is with regard to Spinoza’s philosophy as a whole,
including his speculations about God and the true worship of him.” (172)
9
Quotations from the Judeo-Arabic (i.e., Arabic in Hebrew characters) are from Dalalat al-Ha’irin,
eds. S. Munk and I. Joel (Jerusalem: J. Junovitch, 1930–31).
172
JOURNAL OF THE HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
44:2
APRIL
2006
God can be characterized as follows: Maimonides’ God is cognitive activity, in
which res cogitans and res cogitata are identical. At the same time, Maimonides’
God constitutes the form of the physical world which, mutatis mutandis, becomes
Spinoza’s res extensa. It is important to note that for Maimonides God and nature
not only mirror each other. Rather, the same act determines the structure of God’s
thought and the form of the physical world. To understand this better, let me
recall that the two fundamental components of Aristotle’s universe are matter
and form and that every object in the physical world, in both the sublunary and
the supralunar realm, may be described as a “composite” (sunqetovn) of matter and
form.10 The divine realm on the other hand, i.e., the realm of the separate intelligences, is pure form, whereby “pure” means “without matter” (a[neu u{lh").11
Aristotle’s universe thus may be said to contain two types of things: things composed of matter and form and things that are pure form. Whereas the former
constitute the world of nature, the latter constitute the world of the divine.
What I will attempt to show is that the intellectual activity of Maimonides’ God
constitutes not only the realm of pure form but also the formal component of the
physical world through one and the same act. The remaining dualism in
Maimonides’ ontology (the inconsistency of which he pointed out himself) is due
to the doctrine of God’s incorporeality. From the point of view of the physical
world, God mysteriously is immanent and transcendent because, as incorporeal,
he could be identified only with its form but not with its matter. The structure of
Maimonides’ God is preserved in Spinoza’s God. Spinoza’s God, however, does
not transcend the physical world. The transition from Maimonides’ God to
Spinoza’s may be described as follows: In a first step the ontology of matter and
form is replaced through an ontology of thought and extension which for Spinoza
10
Physics I, 7, 190b 11. Although the matter of things in the sublunary world is very different
from the matter of things in the supralunary world, every “sensible substance” (aijsqhth̀ oujs iva), whether
“eternal” or “corruptible,” is composed of matter and form. For a general account of the principles of
“sensible substances,” see Metaphysics XII, 1–5. Compare Guide of the Perplexed II, Introduction, Premise
22: “Every body is necessarily composed of two things . . . .The two things constituting it are its matter
and its form” (209). If not indicated otherwise quotations from the Guide are translated from Samuel
ibn Tibbon’s Hebrew trans., ed. J. Even Shmuel (Jerusalem: Mosad ha-Rav Kook, 1987). This is the
translation used by Spinoza, who had the 1551 Venezia edition of the Guide (cf. Roth, Spinoza, 65, note
1). For a detailed description of this edition, see J. Dienstag, “Maimonides’ Guide of the Perplexed: A
Bibliography of Editions and Translations,” in Occident and Orient: A Tribute to the Memory of Alexander
Scheiber, ed. Robert Dan (Budapest: Akademiai Kiado / Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1988), 97–98.
11
Metaphysics XII 6, 1071b 21; cf. XII 7, 1073a 4. For the possibility of a plurality of separate
intelligences, see ibid., 8. Compare Maimonides, Sefer ha-Madda‘, Commandments concerning the
Foundations of the Law [SM, Foundations] (Jerusalem: Mosad ha-Rav Kook, 1993), chapter II, 3: “All
that the Holy One, blessed be He, created in His world is divided into three parts: some are creatures
that are a composite [
] of matter and form and that are always subject to generation and
corruption, such as the bodies of man and animal and the plants and the minerals. Some are creatures
that are a composite of matter and form but do not change from body to body and from form to form
as do the former . . . They are the spheres and the stars within them . . . Some creatures are form
without any matter at all [
]. They are the angels.” God is obviously without any matter
as well. For God’s incorporeality, see ibid. I, 7. All things composed of matter and form are the object
of the Account of the Beginning (ibid. IV, 10), which Maimonides identifies with “natural science” in
Guide I, Introduction, 5. All things without matter, i.e., God and the angels, are the object of the
Account of the Chariot (SM, Foundations, II, 11), which Maimonides identifies with “divine science” in
Guide I, Introduction, 5.
MAIMONIDES AND SPINOZA ON GOD
173
are neither conceptually nor causally related to each other.12 As a consequence of
this separation the physical world is reduced to extension and its modes. Physical
objects thus are not composed of extension and thought in the way physical objects are composed of matter and form in the Aristotelian tradition.13
More important, however, is the second step: the integration of the attribute
of extension into God’s absolutely infinite being. For both Maimonides and
Descartes, matter (respectively extension) in itself is passive and outside God’s
nature.14 For Spinoza on the other hand extension as an attribute of God is one
dimension of God’s active essence. In this sense Spinoza’s God is cognitive and
extensive activity, i.e., one act that is both cognition and extension, and in which
res cogitans and extendens are identical to res cogitata and extensa. Maimonides’ and
Spinoza’s God thus share the same structure. But whereas Maimonides’ God is
confined to thought, Spinoza’s God is extension as well. The move beyond the
Aristotelian God allowed Spinoza to solve a number of problems resulting from
the ontological assumptions of his predecessors, most importantly for the present
context the problem of the causal relationship between God conceived as active
but immaterial and matter conceived as passive in itself. According to Solomon
Maimon this is a problem with which “all philosophers struggled.”15 It certainly
was a problem that in Spinoza’s view neither Maimonides nor Descartes had
solved.16
12
For a clear account of Spinoza’s view on the separation of thought and extension see Michael
Della Rocca, Representation and the Mind-Body Problem in Spinoza [Mind-Body Problem] (New York and
Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996), 9–17. Of course the ontology of thought and extension in
some way has its source in Descartes. See, e.g., Principia Philosophiae [Principia] I, 53 and I, 63, in
Œuvres de Descartes, eds. Charles Adam and Paul Tannery [AT], vol. 8 / 1 (Paris: Vrin, 1973). But
Descartes’ account of substantia cogitans and substantia extensa had been modified by Spinoza in many
respects. For some of the differences, see. R. S. Woolhouse, Descartes, Spinoza, Leibniz—The Concept of
Substance in 17th Century Metaphysics [Substance] (London and New York: Routledge, 1993), 28–51. See
also below, note 23.
13
In fact, in a letter to H. Oldenburg, Spinoza calls “Substantial Forms and Qualities” a “childish
and worthless doctrine” (Ep. 13 / G. IV, 64).
14
For the passivity of matter, see Maimonides’ quotation of Metaphyisics XII, 6, 1071b 29–30 in
Guide II, Introduction: “Matter does not move itself.” For the exclusion of matter from God, see Guide
I, 69. On the passivity of matter in Descartes, see Spinoza’s comment in a letter to W. von Tschirnhaus:
“[F]rom extension as conceived by Descartes, to wit, an inert mass [molem quiescentem], it is not only
difficult, as you say, but quite impossible to demonstrate the existence of bodies. For inert matter, as
far as it is in itself, will remain in its inert state [in sua quiete perseverabit], and will not be set in motion
except by a powerful external cause. For this reason I have not hesitated on a previous occasion to
affirm that Descartes’s principles of natural things are useless not to say absurd” (Ep. 81 / G. IV, 332)
Since Descartes conceives God as “uncreated thinking substance” (Principia I, 54), extension is excluded from God’s nature.
15
Salomon Maimon, Versuch über die Transzendentalphilosophie, in Gesammelte Werke [GW], ed. Valerio
Verra, Reprographischer Nachdruck (Hildesheim: Georg Olms Verlag, 1965), vol. 2, 62.
16
Note that I sometimes deliberately use Spinoza’s terminology in an anachronistic way to characterize the relationship between God and nature in Maimonides in order to make visible the structural similarities and differences in their metaphysical projects. The opposition of God and the physical world, for example, disregards the chain of incorporeal intelligences emanating from God in
Maimonides’ cosmology. Maimonides’ physical world, moreover, not only differs from Spinoza’s res
extensa with regard to being composed of matter and form. It is also finite and subdivided into two
essentially different realms: the world above and below the sphere of the moon, whereas Spinoza’s res
extensa is infinite and one in essence. As important as these differences are, reflecting in part the
transition from a pre-Copernican to a post-Copernican conception of the universe, they do not, in my
opinion, affect the substance of my argument. Note also that I will usually refer to Spinoza’s God as if
174
JOURNAL OF THE HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
44:2
APRIL
2006
I am certainly not the first to claim that the God of medieval Aristotelians in
some way influenced Spinoza’s Deus sive Natura. To the best of my knowledge,
however, there is neither a precise account of the structure of their relation, nor
of the steps leading from the former to the latter.17 Besides contributing to the
clarification of the genesis of Spinoza’s monism, my analysis, if correct, permits
two further interesting conclusions: It shows that, within Spinoza’s system, a modified version of the central metaphysical concept of the Aristotelian tradition survived the collapse of Aristotle’s cosmology and physics following the Copernican
revolution, and it sheds light on the radical nature of the metaphysics of at least
some medieval Aristotelians. Their “Spinozism,” if I may say so, is at least as interesting as Spinoza’s “Aristotelianism.”
DISPERSING A CLOUD
The most important passage showing that Spinoza was aware of the relation of his
metaphysics to the metaphysics of medieval Jewish Aristotelians is E II, Prop. 7
and the scholium to the same proposition:
E II, Prop. 7: The order and connection of ideas is the same [idem est] as the order and
connection of things.
Schol.: Here . . . we must recall what we showed above, namely that whatever can be
perceived by an infinite intellect as constituting the essence of substance, all this
pertains to only one substance [unicam tantum substantiam], and consequently that
the thinking substance [substantia cogitans] and the extended substance [substantia
extensa] are one and the same substance, which is now comprehended under this,
now under that attribute [jam sub hoc, jam sub illo attributo comprehenditur]. So also a
mode of extension and the idea of that mode are one and the same thing, but expressed in two ways [sed duobus modis expressa]. (G. II, 89–90)
The proposition states what is often called Spinoza’s ‘parallelism thesis.’ The
text, however, suggests that ‘identity thesis’ would be a more appropriate term,
since for Spinoza the order of ideas is the same as the order of things. From the
scholium we learn that this identity is not confined to the order but extends to the
ideas and things as well.18 In fact, the identity of the latter serves as explanation
for the identity of the former: because ideas and things are one and the same
entity, their order and connection is one and the same.19 Moreover, the scholium
makes visible the ontological foundation of Spinoza’s concept of truth as correspondence:20 Ideas and things correspond to each other because they are only
one entity perceived under two attributes—the attribute of extension and the at-
he had only the attribute of thought and the attribute of extension. Although Spinoza’s thesis that
God has an infinite number of attributes is important, it does not play a major role in the context of
my discussion. Spinoza’s crucial step beyond medieval philosophical theology is certainly the attribution of extension to God.
17
I will discuss two important attempts to explain the relationship—by Leon Roth and Shlomo
Pines—in Appendix 2.
18
Cf. E II, Prop. 21 Schol.; E III, Prop. 2, Schol.
19
Cf. Martial Gueroult, Spinoza [Spinoza], 2 vols. (Hildesheim: Georg Olms Verlag, 1974), vol. 2,
86.
20
See E I, Ax. 6 [G. II, 47]: “A true idea must correspond to the thing it represents” (Idea vera debet
cum suo ideato convenire).
MAIMONIDES AND SPINOZA ON GOD
175
tribute of thought.21 This is perhaps the most explicit passage in the Ethics for
Spinoza’s uncompromising monism or, in Wolfson’s words, for his “principle of
the unity of nature.”22 It implies a clear rejection of Cartesian dualism: not two
realms of being exist—substantia cogitans and substantia extensa—but one realm
only that is perceived as cogitatio and extensio.23 This realm consists of one substance or natura naturans and its modifications or natura naturata.24 The scholium
proceeds as follows:
which some of the Hebrews appear to have seen as if through a cloud, who maintain
that God, God’s intellect, and the things by him intellectually cognized are one and
the same. (quod quidam Hebraeorum quasi per nebulam vidisse videntur, qui scilicet statuunt,
Deum, Dei intellectum, resque ab ipso intellectas unum, & idem esse). (G. II, 90)
Thus, in order to reach his ontological monism from the monotheism of “some
of the Hebrews” all Spinoza had to do was to dissipate a “cloud.” It seems clear,
therefore, that he did not consider his Deus sive Natura to be the result of an act of
daring or of a philosophical revolution. If we imagine a philosophical debate between Spinoza and the “Hebrews” he has in mind in the above quoted passage,
metaphysics would presumably not be a controversial issue. The only difference
between them, according to Spinoza, concerns the clarity of their perception:
What he himself conceives clare et distincte, his Hebrew predecessors conceived
only “as if through a cloud.”25
Spinoza’s God of “some of the Hebrews” is, to be sure, not devoid of travesty.
Looked at more closely, he turns out to be not the God of the Hebrews but the
21
This issue has been much debated in secondary literature, in particular the question if the
numerical identity of ideas and things is compatible with the conceptual and causal barrier that according to Spinoza separates thought from extension. For a lucid recent discussion, see Della Rocca,
Mind-Body Problem, chs. 7–9. For the purpose of this paper I do not need to solve the problems involved
in Spinoza’s position. That he is, in fact, committed to the numerical identity thesis is in my opinion
sufficiently clear from the text of the scholium (as well as from several parallel passages; see references
in note 18). I do not subscribe to the so-called “subjective” interpretation of the attributes which was
proposed by Wolfson (see Wolfson, Spinoza I, 142–57). Note that in CM II, 5 the distinction between
God’s attributes is described as a “distinction of reason” (distinctio rationis). This means that the distinction does not exist in re, “but is only conceived by reason as if it existed” (sed tantum ratione quasi
fieri concipitur) (G. I, 257–58). In the Ethics, however, Spinoza says that the attributes are conceived as
“really distinct” (realiter distincta) (E I, Prop. 10, schol.).
22
For the unity of nature, see also the reference to this Scholium in E III, Prop. 2, Schol., in which
“the mind and the body” are described as “one and the same thing” conceived under two attributes.
“It follows that the order or connection of things is one whether nature is conceived under this attribute or that” (ordo, sive rerum concatenatio una sit, sive natura sub hoc, sive sub illo attributo concipiatur)
(G. II, 141, emphasis added).
23
Cf. Descartes, Principia I, 53–54; I, 63. Descartes’s substance pluralism is, however, not limited
to the dualism of substantia cogitans and substantia extensa. Thinking substance is in itself multiple.
Thus, Descartes distinguishes between “created” and “uncreated” thinking substance; the latter is
God and numerically one, the former consists in the human minds of which each constitutes an
individual substance (see Principia I, 60). Extended substance on the other hand seems to be numerically one. Individual bodies are not substances but a “certain configuration” (certa configuratio) of
extension (see the “Synopsis of the Meditations” in AT 7, 14). For Spinoza only one substance with
infinite attributes exists, of which individual minds and bodies are modes. In the present paper, I am,
however, not interested in a detailed account of the differences between Descartes’s and Spinoza’s
ontology, but only in the way Spinoza abolishes Descartes’s dualism of thought and extension.
24
On these two terms see KV I, 8 and 9; E I, Prop. 29, Scholium.
25
Cf. Harvey, “Portrait,” 166.
176
JOURNAL OF THE HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
44:2
APRIL
2006
God of the Greeks—more precisely the divine nou'" ultimately derived from
Aristotle’s Metaphysics XII 7 and 9. From this we may infer that the alleged “Hebrews” were not primarily the Hebrews of Biblical times, but Jewish philosophers
such as Abraham ibn Ezra, Maimonides, Gersonides or Leone Ebreo,26 who had
transformed the God of Aristotle into the God of the Bible.27 Since the detailed
studies of Spinoza’s Hebrew sources by M. Joel it is well known that he was acquainted with and extensively used the work of earlier Jewish thinkers. Among
others, he was familiar with all four of the above-mentioned philosophers.28 They
provided the divine nou'" with a Hebrew garb, and draped in that costume Spinoza
made its acquaintance.
Before I attempt to show why in my opinion Spinoza is justified to refer to the
God of “some of the Hebrews” as a “clouded” anticipation of his Deus sive Natura,
let me note that I am well aware that this thesis is controversial. I expect students
of both Maimonides and Spinoza to raise objections against my interpretation. It
will be of particular concern to them that I may be underestimating the thickness
of the cloud which in Spinoza’s opinion obscured Maimonides’ vision. According
to them, the difference between Maimonides’ God and Spinoza’s is much greater
26
Most commentators take “Hebrews” to be a reference to Maimonides. See Wolfson, Spinoza,
vol. 2, 24–27; Harvey, “Portrait,” 165. The plural “Hebraeorum,” however, may well imply that Spinoza
was thinking not only of Maimonides and, indeed, the formula is used frequently in medieval philosophical literature. See for example the Long Commentary on the Torah by Abraham ibn Ezra on Exodus
34:6; cf. the Short Commentary on Exodus 33:12; Gersonides, Wars of the Lord (Riva di Trento, 1560),
Book V, part III, chapter 12, 46a; Leone Ebreo, Dialoghi d’Amore, ed. Carl Gebhardt (Heidelberg: Carl
Winters Universitätsbuchhandlung, 1929), 122b. On the other hand, neither does the plural preclude the possibility that Spinoza is referring to Maimonides only or primarily. In TTP I (G. III, 18),
for example, he mentions quorundam Judaeorum in a passage which is clearly based on Guide II, 33 (cf.
Joel, Quellen, 24 ff. and Pines, “Spinoza’s Tractatus,” 16). Harvey, “Portrait,” 165, note 76, suggests that
the metaphor of the “cloud” is an allusion to Guide III, 9, where Maimonides describes matter as a
cloud, which prevents beings composed of matter and form—such as humans and the celestial spheres—
from apprehending “the separate intellect as it is in itself.”
27
Though Spinoza may also have had in mind the theology of the Hebrew Bible—not derived
from a literal reading, to be sure, but from its medieval philosophical interpretation. That Spinoza was
not particularly committed to the principles of his Biblical hermeneutics as set out in TTP VII is, I
think, obvious from an attentive reading of the TTP itself. With regard to the God of the “ancient
Hebrews,” a passage in Letter 73 is instructive: “I maintain an opinion on God and Nature far different from that which modern Christians are wont to uphold. For I maintain that God is of all things the
immanent cause, as they say, and not the transitive cause [Deum enim rerum omnium causam immanentem,
ut ajunt, non vero transeuntem statuo]. All things, I say, are in God and move in God, and this I affirm
with Paul and perhaps with all ancient philosophers, though expressed in a different way, and I would
even venture to say, with all the ancient Hebrews [cum antiquis omnibus Hebraeis], as far as may be
conjectured from certain traditions, even if these have suffered manifold corruption” (G. IV, 307).
On Maimonides’ God as causa immanens, see below. It is in this context important to note that in the
KV Spinoza illustrates the concept of causa immanens through the relationship between the intellect
and its intellecta. This adds plausibility to the thesis that in his statement about the “ancient Hebrew
traditions,” Spinoza was guided by their medieval Aristotelian commentators. The “uncorrupted”
message of Scripture here is as close to Spinoza’s metaphysical doctrines as the “uncorrupted” message of Scripture in TTP XII is close to his ethical doctrines. When he was younger Spinoza apparently
took less trouble to point out the relation of his God to the God of the Bible. It seems that one claim
leading to his excommunication in 1656 was “that there is no God except philosophically.” Cf. Nadler,
Spinoza, 135–36.
28
Joel, Quellen; Idem, Zur Genesis der Lehre Spinozas [Genesis] (Breslau: Schletter’sche Buchhandlung,
1871). For Spinoza’s knowledge of Leone Ebreo, see C. Gebhardt, “Spinoza und der Platonismus,”
Chronicon Spinozanum 1 (1921), 178–234.
MAIMONIDES AND SPINOZA ON GOD
177
and more radical than I allow. I will discuss the two objections that seem to me the
most important in Appendix 1.
TWO ASPECTS OF SPINOZA’S MONISM
What appears to be Spinoza’s break with the medieval philosophical tradition, as
described by Wolfson, is the consequence of two features of his monism: First, he
seems to abolish the traditional division of reality into an incorporeal God and a
corporeal world, by transforming the incorporeal principle and the corporeal
principle into two attributes of one substance, i.e., “thought” and “extension.” Second, he seems to abolish the traditional division of reality into creator and creation. The traditional view is assumed to be that God is transcendent—in Spinoza’s
terminology causa transiens, i.e., a cause that produces its effects outside itself.
Spinoza’s view is that God is causa immanens, i.e., a cause that produces its effects
inside itself. In other words: natura naturata or creation is not outside natura
naturans or the creator, but within it.
The first characteristic can be derived from E I, Prop. 14, in particular its first
corollarium, taken together with E II, Prop. 1 and 2. Spinoza defines God as “an
absolutely infinite being [ens absolute infinitum], that is, a substance consisting of
an infinity of attributes, of which each one expresses an eternal and infinite essence” (E I, Def. 6 / G. II, 45). In the scholium to E I, Prop. 10, Spinoza claims that
the coexistence of a plurality of “really distinct” attributes in one substance is
possible. That God as defined in Def. 6 “necessarily exists” is demonstrated in E I,
Prop. 11 (G. II, 52). Since according to Prop. 5 “in nature there cannot be two or
more substances of the same nature or attribute” (G. II, 48), and since God possesses all attributes, Spinoza can conclude in Prop. 14 that only God exists:29
E I, Prop. 14: Besides God, no substance can be or be conceived.
Cor. 1: From this it follows most clearly, first, that God is unique [unicum], i.e. (by
Def. 6), that in the nature of things there is only one substance [in rerum natura non,
nisi unam substantiam, dari], and that it is absolutely infinite. (G. II, 56)
As ens absolute infinitum God contains all reality, which according to Spinoza is
expressed in the infinite number of his attributes.30 It so happens that human
beings apprehend only two segments of this reality: modes of thought and modes
of extension. Now, modes can neither be nor be conceived without substance (cf.
E I, Def. 5) and modes of a certain kind are caused by substance only insofar as it
is conceived under the attribute of this same kind.31 We can, therefore, infer from
our apprehension of modes of thought that “thought [cogitatio] is an attribute of
29
My intention here is not to provide a complete account of Spinoza’s argument. For an explanation of the steps leading to E I, Prop. 14 see: Edwin Curley, Behind the Geometrical Method—A Reading of
Spinoza’s Ethics [Geometrical Method] (Princeton, N. J.: Princeton University Press, 1988), 9–19. Cf.
M. Della Rocca, “Spinoza’s Substance Monism,” in Spinoza—Metaphysical Themes [Metaphysical Themes],
eds. Olli Koistinen and John Biro (Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 2002), 11–37,
especially 13.
30
See for example E I, Prop. 10, Schol.: “Indeed nothing in Nature is clearer than that each
being must be conceived under some attribute, and the more reality or being it has, the more it has
attributes [quo plus realitatis, aut esse habeat, eo plura attributa] which express necessity or eternity and
infinity” (G. II, 52).
31
Cf. E II, Prop. 5 and 6.
178
JOURNAL OF THE HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
44:2
APRIL
2006
God, or God is a thinking thing,” and from our apprehension of modes of extension “that extension [extensio] is an attribute of God, or God is an extended thing”
(E II, Prop. 1& 2 / G. II, 86).32 Spinoza’s monism, therefore, abolishes the ontological dualism of medieval Aristotelians insofar as they conceived God as incorporeal intelligence that is “separate” from the corporeal world.33 Thought and
extension become two of the infinite attributes of the one substance.
The second characteristic is implied in E I, Prop. 15, and spelled out in E I,
Prop. 18: Given that only one absolutely infinite substance exists, and given that
modes can neither be nor be conceived without substance, it follows that nothing
can exist outside or independently of God:
E I, Prop. 15: Whatever is, is in God [Quicquid est, in Deo est], and nothing can be or be
conceived without God.
Dem.: Besides God, there neither is, nor can be conceived, a substance . . . .But
modes (by Def. 5) can neither be nor be conceived without substance. Therefore,
they can be in the divine nature alone [in sola divina natura esse], and can be conceived through it alone. (G. II, 56)
Prop. 15 is then used in the demonstration of Prop. 18 which describes God as
causa immanens (as against causa transiens):
E I, Prop. 18: God is the immanent, not the transitive, cause [causa immanens, non vero
transiens] of all things.
Dem.: All things that are, are in God, and must be conceived through God (by Prop.
15), and so (by Prop. 16, Cor. 1) God is the cause of the things, which are in him
[quae in ipso sunt]. (G II, 64)
Already in KV I, 3 Spinoza stated that God “is an immanent [inblyvende] and
not a transitive cause [overgaande oorzaake], since he does everything in himself,
and not outside himself because outside him there is nothing [omdat buyten hem
niets nied en is]” (G. I, 35).
Although the monistic implications of Spinoza’s concept of Deus sive Natura—
the unity of thought and extension, and God’s immanent causality—perhaps in
some way can be derived from Descartes’s concept of God as “supremely perfect
being” (ens summe perfectum),34 this does not change the fact that they are clearly
non-Cartesian features. From a historical perspective, I think, these non-Cartesian
features of Spinoza’s God can best be explained against the background of the
32
This is an a posteriori proof. Cf. Gueroult, Spinoza, vol. 2, 38 ff.
See for example Metaphysics XII 7, 1073a 4–5: God is “a substance . . . separate [kecwrismevnh]
from sensible things.” But here again a note of caution is in order. The description of God as incorporeal intelligence is certainly not uniform in the Aristotelian tradition. If Simplicius’s quotation from
Aristotle’s lost treatise On Prayer is authentic, according to which “God is either intellect or also something beyond the intellect [ejpevkeinav ti tou' nou']” (Simplicii in Aristotelis De Caelo Commentaria, ed. Johan
Ludvig Heiberg [Berlin: Georg Reimer, 1893 = CAG, vol. 7], 485), even Aristotle himself would not
have been unambiguous on this question. As for medieval Aristotelians, to say that they consistently
conceive God as incorporeal intelligence and hold a strict ontological dualism is certainly an oversimplification. In particular the Neoplatonic stratum in their thought requires qualifying both assertions.
On the other hand, the opposition of incorporeal intelligence and corporeal world is a sufficiently
recognizable feature of their thought to justify its use for contrasting it with Spinoza’s position.
34
See, e.g., Descartes, Principia I, 14 and I, 18. The relationship of Spinoza’s concept of God to
Descartes’s has been described by Curley, Geometrical Method, 3–50. On Spinoza’s use of Descartes’s
definition of God as a “supremely perfect being,” see in particular 19–23.
33
MAIMONIDES AND SPINOZA ON GOD
179
doctrine of God characteristic of the above mentioned tradition in medieval
Aristotelianism.35
Scholars have for a long time noted that in order to “uncover the dialogue
Spinoza was conducting with his predecessors,” it is legitimate to disregard the
geometrical form of his exposition.36 In what follows, I will make use of this liberty, and present the Maimonidean version of the two aspects of Spinoza’s monism in inverse order. If my reconstruction is correct this would be the order in
which the Aristotelian doctrine of God took shape in the understanding of Spinoza.
MAIMONIDES’ GOD AS CAUSA IMMANENS OF ALL EXISTENTS
In Guide I, 68 Maimonides presents what the “philosophers concerned with divine science . . . have demonstrated” regarding the nature of God. Only “ignoramuses,” according to Maimonides, “hold that the knowledge of the necessary truth
concerning this [
] is concealed from the minds” (140):
You already know that this saying of the philosophers with regard to God, may He be
praised, is generally admitted: the saying that He is the intellect as well as the subject
of intellection and the object of intellection, and that these three notions are in
Him, may He be praised, one notion, in which there is no multiplicity [
]. We also have already mentioned in our great compilation, Mishneh Torah that this is a foundation of our religion, as we have made clear there; I mean the fact that He is only one and that no
other thing can be added to Him. . . . For this reason it is said “by the living Lord [yy yj]”
Î
(1 Samuel 20:3; cf. ibid. 25:26) and not “by the life of the Lord [yy yje]”—because His
life is not something other than His essence. (140)
35
On this point I disagree with Curley who believes “that we have much more to gain from
considering Spinoza’s relation to Descartes and Hobbes than from examining his relation to any
other previous authors” (Geometrical Method, xi). Ultimately the assessment of the influences on Spinoza
seems to depend—at least to some degree—on the research interests of the scholar in question. L.
Roth, for example, writes: “Where Spinoza rejected the lead of Descartes, he not only followed that of
Maimonides, but based his rejection on Maimonides’ arguments, often, indeed, on his very words. . . .
Maimonides and Spinoza speak throughout with one voice” (Spinoza, 143–44). In this paper I neither
intend to participate in the competition for Spinoza’s sources, nor to evaluate the already existing
contributions to this competition. Let me only briefly address three points concerning Spinoza’s relation to Descartes. First, I think, it is uncontroversial that Spinoza’s God has clearly non-Cartesian
features. “The first and most important error” of Descartes, according to Spinoza, is that he went “far
astray from cognition of the first cause and origin of all things” (Ep. 2 / G. IV, 8). Since for Spinoza all
knowledge ultimately depends on the cognition of the first cause, he must have considered an error at
this point as devastating for the philosophical system as a whole. Second, it is true, as Curley (Geometrical Method, 4) remarks, that Spinoza approved L. Meyer’s preface to the PP, in which Meyer describes
Descartes as “the brightest star of our age,” who has brought us “out of the darkness and into light.”
But whatever Spinoza may have thought of this somewhat flowery description, it is unmistakably Meyer’s
not his. Thus Meyer, in his Philosophia sive S. Scripturae Interpres (1666), describes Descartes as “the
greatest founder and propagator” of philosophy, who “illuminated the world of letters” (115). This is
clearly not the Descartes of Spinoza’s second letter quoted above. Finally, Curley is also right in that
Spinoza’s first published work is “a careful exposition of Descartes,” which he wrote “while he was
writing the Ethics” (Geomtecrical Method, 4). But Spinoza published as appendix to PP the CM, which
presents, as I will argue, a concept of God with clearly Maimonidean features. Moreover, CM apparently antedates PP. See below, Appendix 3.
36
Curley, Geometrical Method, xi. Cf. Wolfson’s methodological discussion in Spinoza, vol. 1, chs. 1
and 2.
180
JOURNAL OF THE HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
44:2
APRIL
2006
God’s unity thus consists in the identity of “the intellect, the subject and the
object of intellection [Arabic: lwq[mlaw lqa[law lq[la]” (112). As an example of
this unity, Maimonides describes the intellectual cognition of a tree37 through a
human intellect. When “a man . . . has stripped” the form of the tree “from its
matter, and has represented to himself the pure form—this being the act of the
intellect [lkçh l[wp]—at that time the man would become one who is intellectually cognizing in actu [l[wpb lykçm].” In an intellect in actu there is no distinction
between intellect and apprehension for “the true being and essence of the intellect is apprehension [hgçh].” Maimonides contrasts this unity of an intellect in
actu with the threefold nature of an intellectual cognition in potentia: “The man
. . . who is the intellectually cognizing subject in potentia, the potentiality that is the
intellect in potentia, and the thing apt to be intellectually cognized, which is the
potentially cognizable object.” In the above given example these three “would be
. . . man, hylic intellect, and the form of the tree” (141). Maimonides describes
“apprehension” further as “the act of the intellect” (Arabic: lq[la l[p), and thus
concludes that the act of the intellect is “its true reality and its substance” (141).
This “act of the intellect,” therefore, constitutes the unity of the intellect, the
subject and the object of intellection.
At first view, Maimonides does not seem to go beyond what Aristotle says in
Metaphysics XII, in particular in chapter 9 in which he discusses the aporiai arising
from the question how nou'" must be, assuming that it is the “most divine” (qeiovtaton)
entity (1074b 15–17), and reaches the conclusion that it must be intellection,
which “intellectually cognizes itself” (auJto;n a[ra noei') (33–34). It is important to
note that for Aristotle this means that the divine intellect cognizes only itself. The
main steps of the argument leading to this conclusion may be summarized as
follows:38 The question “what [the intellect] knows” allows for two disjunctive answers: either “itself” (auJto;n) or “something else” (e{teron) and if the latter, “either
always the same object, or now this and now that [a[llo]” (21–23). Since the intellect is the “most divine” as well as the “most excellent” (kravtiston) (34), and since
the object of intellection rather than the act of intellection determines its value,39
it cannot “intellectually cognize whatsoever [to; tucovn],” but must “intellectually
cognize the most divine [qeiovtaton] and the most valuable [timiwvtaton]” (24–26).
Thus, it can be ruled out that the intellect cognizes “now this and now that” object, for the cognition of any object other than the most divine and most valuable
would imply a change “to the worse” (eij" cei'ron), which in turn would imply “motion” (kivnhsi"). As a consequence, such a cognition would be incompatible with
Hebrew: ˜lya, Arabic: ’hbç’k, which means “piece of wood.”
In what follows I will present my own understanding of what seems to me the core of Aristotle’s
argument; I have considerably benefited from William D. Ross’s commentary on the chapter in Aristotle’s
Metaphysics, A Revised Text with Introduction and Commentary, vol. II (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1966, 5th
edition), 396–99, as well as from Jacques Brunschwig’s discussion “Metaphysics D 9: A Short-Lived
Thought-Experiment?” [“Thought-Experiment”] in Aristotle’s Metaphysics Lambda—Symposium
Aristotelicum, eds. Michael Frede and David Charles (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2000), 275–306. For
the interpretation of Aristotle as excluding knowledge of anything other than itself from the divine
intellect, see Brunschwig, who calls this “the Narcissus-like view of God” (304).
39
Cf. 1074b 31–33, and my discussion of this passage below.
37
38
MAIMONIDES AND SPINOZA ON GOD
181
the intellect’s excellence and unmoved state (26–27).40 But the intellect also cannot cognize an object other than itself which is always the same. Since what determines the intellect’s excellence is the object rather than the act of intellection—
for “the act of intellection [novhsi"] will also belong to that which intellectually
cognizes the worst”—and since the intellect must cognize the most divine and
most valuable object, the cognition of something other than itself would imply
that the “object of intellection” (noouvmenon) is “more valuable” (timiwvteron) than
the intellect, which is incompatible with the intellect’s most divine and most excellent nature (29–33). Hence Aristotle’s conclusion: The intellect “intellectually
cognizes itself, since it is what is most excellent, and this intellection is intellection
of intellection [e[stin hJ novhsi" nohvsew" novhsi"]” (33–35). Although the conclusion
is reached through the elimination of all alternatives, its first part may be read as
containing an implicit positive inference: The intellect must intellectually cognize
what is most excellent. What is most excellent is the intellect itself. Hence it must
intellectually cognize itself. At the end of XII 9 Aristotle examines a further aporia
that is important for our discussion because it appears to rule out also any internal structure of the divine intellect’s object of intellection, for if the latter were
“composite” (suvnqeton), this would imply change in the intellect “while going
through the parts of the whole” (1075a 5–7). Aristotle’s solution for this aporia is
that the divine intellect’s object of intellection is “immaterial” and, therefore,
“indivisible” (ajdiaivreton) (7).
Now, if this is the background to Maimonides’ doctrine of divine unity as the
identity of intellect, subject and object of intellection in God—how can Spinoza’s
monism be derived from such a God absorbed in eternal self-contemplation?41
The example of the apprehension of a tree through a human intellect shows
that for Maimonides the doctrine of the unity of the intellect, in principle, characterizes the “true reality of every intellect [lkç lk qwjb]” (142). The distinctive
feature of God’s intellect, according to Maimonides, is that in God’s intellect,
“there is absolutely no potentiality [
]” (142), whereas the human intellect acquires knowledge by successively passing from potentiality to actuality.
Before knowing the tree, it is intellect in potentia with regard to the tree; if it
acquires knowledge of the tree, it becomes intellect in actu with regard to the tree,
but remains intellect in potentia with regard to the horse, and so forth. The claim
that in God’s intellect “there is absolutely no potentiality,” therefore, could be understood as implying that God is intellect in actu with regard to all objects of
intellection.42 Indeed, two eminent readers of the Guide, Leibniz and Solomon
Maimon, understood Maimonides’ statement in this sense. Leibniz writes:
40
An implicit assumption appears to be that no more than one most valuable and most divine
object can exist. However, even if this assumption is not granted, the cognition of multiple objects of
equal excellence would still appear to imply motion for Aristotle, and could thus be ruled out on this
account (presupposing that the simultaneous cognition of multiple objects is impossible; cf. Aristotle’s
argument for the simplicity of the object of cognition at 1075a 5–7 discussed below).
41
For a critical discussion of Shlomo Pines’s attempt to derive an almost pantheistic view from
Guide I, 68, see Appendix 2.
42
That the act of the intellect is the intellect’s “true reality and substance” (141) holds for both
the human and the divine intellect, but only the latter is actus purus (to use Thomas Aquinas’s terminology; see for example Summa Theologiae qu. 3, art. 2: Deus est actus purus, non habens aliquid de
potentialitate), whereby actus purus is the kind of “actuality” (ejnevrgeia) that constitutes the substance
182
JOURNAL OF THE HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
44:2
APRIL
2006
God is intellect, subject and object of intellection, and these three in him are one.
An intellect that exists in actu is the same as the object of intellection: for example
the abstracted form of a tree. But an intellect in potentia and the tree intellectually
cognized in potentia are different things. But since God is always intellectually cognizing
in actu without any potentiality with regard to all objects of intellection, therefore in him
the subject and the object of intellection are always the same [sine ulla potentia respectu
omnium intelligibilium ideo in eo semper idem intelligens et intelligibile].43
And similarly Solomon Maimon:
Since in God there is no potentiality but everything thinkable (possible) is actually
thought by him [Da nun in Gott kein Vermögen ist, sondern alles Vorstellbare (Mögliche)
von ihm wirklich vorgestellt wird]; it follows from this, that God as thinking subject, his
thought and the object of thought . . . are one and the same thing. Where this leads
to the thinking reader can easily see.44
What will the “thinking reader” find out? If God’s apprehension comprises all
objects of intellection, and if at the same time it is self-intellection, it follows that
God is all objects of intellection. And since “the intellect is . . . His essence,” and
the essence of the intellect is “the act of the intellect,” we must conclude that
God’s essence, or the act of God’s intellect is all objects of intellection. In the
passage of the Mishneh Torah, to which Maimonides refers at the beginning of
Guide I, 68, God’s intellection of all existents is explicitly stated:
The Holy One, blessed be He, apprehends His true reality [wtyma rykm], and knows it
[htwa [dwyw] as it is. And He does not know with knowledge external to Himself, as we
know. For we and our knowledge are not one. But as for the Creator blessed be He,
His knowledge and His life are one [dja wyyjw wt[dw awh] in every respect, from all
angles, and however we conceive unity. For assuming that He lived through life, and
knew through knowledge external to Himself, there would be a plurality of deities:
He, His life, and His knowledge. This, however, is not the case, but He is one in every
of the eternal and unmoved first mover in Metaphysics XII 6. It is “pure” in the sense of being unmixed
with potentiality, for potentiality would entail the possibility of non-being and thus would be incompatible with the first mover’s eternity (1071b17 ff.). This actuality, according to Metaphysics XII 7, is
the divine intellect (cf. 1072b26 ff.). It is interesting to note that the description of the divine intellect
as “actuality” does not occur in Metaphysics XII 9, which (among other arguments) led some scholars
to suggest that XII 9 is earlier than XII 7. Cf. Bertrand Dumoulin, Analyse génetique de la Métaphysique
d’Aristote (Montreal: Bellarmin, and Paris: Belles Lettres, 1986) and Brunschwig, “Thought-Experiment.” One significant difference between the two chapters, according to Brunschwig, is that “the
doctrine of XII 9 is a Narcissus-like theology,” which is “substantially different from the doctrine of XII
7, which is a theology of God’s omniscience” (304). It would be interesting to examine whether
Maimonides’ apparent deviation from Aristotle’s doctrine of God’s knowledge is due to the combination of elements from the two chapters. But, as we will see below, Maimonides’ main argument for
attributing omniscience to God does not stem from XII 7.
43
G.W.F. Leibniz, “Observationes ad Rabbi Mosis Maimonidis librum qui inscribitur Doctor
Perplexorum,” published in Louis Alexandre Foucher de Careil, La philosophie juive et la cabale, Paris,
1861. Reprinted as appendix to Maimonides, Doctor Perplexorum, Latin trans. J. Buxtorf (Basel, 1629;
Reprint: Farnborough and Gregg, 1969), 2–46. The quotation is from the gloss on Guide I, 68, 10
(emphasis added).
44
Salomon Maimons Lebensgeschichte, in Maimon, GW, vol. 1, 366 (emphasis added). Cf. Maimon,
Give‘at ha-Moreh (eds. Samuel H. Bergman and Natan Rotenstreich [Jerusalem: Israel Academy of
Sciences and Humanities, 1965], on Guide I, 74. See also my forthcoming article: “Maimonides, Spinoza,
Solomon Maimon and the Completion of the Copernican Revolution in Philosophy,” in Proceedings of
the Colloquium: Sepharad in Ashkenaz—Medieval Knowledge and Eighteenth-century Enlightened Jewish Discourse, Royal Netherlands Academy of Arts and Sciences, Amsterdam, in which I examine the relationship of Maimon’s concept of an “infinite intellect” to both Maimonides and Spinoza.
MAIMONIDES AND SPINOZA ON GOD
183
respect, from all angles, and in every way unity is conceived. [Thus] you will say: He
is the knowing subject and the known object and the knowledge itself—all these are
one [dja lkh - hmx[ h[dh awhw [wdyh awhw [dwyh awh]. This is something that speech has no
power to express, the ear no power to hear and the human mind no power to apprehend completely. For this reason [Scripture] says: “by the life of Pharaoh [h[rp yje]”
(Genesis 42:15) and “by the life of your soul [
e]” (1 Samuel 25:26); and it does
not say “by the life of the Lord [‘h yje]” but “by the living Lord [‘h yj]”
Î (ibidem), for
the Creator and His life are not two [things] as in the case of the life of living bodies
or the life of angels. Hence He does not apprehend creatures and know them because of the creatures as we know them, but because of Himself He knows them. It is,
therefore, because He knows himself that He knows everything, for everything is
attached to Him with regard to its generation [
].45
Here, as in the Guide, Maimonides emphasizes both the unity of the intellect,
the subject and the object of intellection in God, as well as the identity of God’s
self-intellection and God’s life. He goes, however, beyond the account in the Guide
in that he explicitly links God’s self-intellection and his intellection of the created
world. God’s knowledge of existents is presented as the consequence of God’s
self-intellection and of the causal dependence of the created world on God: “It is,
therefore, because He knows himself that He knows everything, for everything is
attached to Him with regard to its generation.” Maimonides thus combines two
characteristics of the divine intellect from Aristotle’s account in the Metaphysics:
one is the characterization of the essence of the divine intellect as self-intellection;46 the other is the characterization of the function of the divine intellect as
the first cause in the order of nature.47 From these two Aristotelian characterizations, Maimonides draws the non-Aristotelian inference that the object of God’s
knowledge is not only God himself, but the created world as well.
That Spinoza knew well the above quoted passage in the Mishneh Torah we
learn from the chapter on God’s life in the Cogitata Metaphysica (II, 6). At the end
of the chapter he states that God’s life is identical to his essence, because life is
“the force through which things persevere in their being” and “the power by which
God perseveres in his being [vis autem, qua Deus in suo esse perseverat] is nothing
but his essence.” Then he adds:
So they speak best who call God life [qui Deum vitam vocant]. Some theologians think
that the Jews for this reason, i.e., that God is life, and is not distinguished from life
said hwhy yj,
Î living Jehova [vivus Jehova] when they swore, but not hwhy yje, the life of Jehova
[vita Jehovae] (1 Samuel 20:3; cf. ibidem, 25:26), like Joseph, when he swore by the
life of Pharaoh, said h[rp yje, life of Pharao [vita Pharaonis] (Gen. 42:15–16). (G. I,
260)
There is little doubt in my view that this passage is based on the Mishneh Torah
passage quoted above. In the following chapter, Spinoza discusses the nature of
God’s intellect, which, as we shall see below, has the same structure as God’s intellect according to Maimonides’ account. But before we turn to Spinoza, the implications of the omniscience attributed to God by Maimonides require further ex45
SM, Foundations II, 10.
Cf. Metaphysics XII 9 discussed above.
47
Cf. Metaphysics XII 6–7 and Physics VIII.
46
184
JOURNAL OF THE HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
44:2
APRIL
2006
amination. Guide III, 21 gives a more detailed explanation of the genesis and
structure of God’s knowledge of the created world. According to Maimonides,
there is “a great disparity . . . with regard to that which exists taken as a whole in its
relation to our knowledge, and His knowledge.” Whereas our knowledge is multiple and subject to renewal and change because it is a posteriori (derived from
“looking at the beings”), God’s knowledge is one and immutable because it is a
priori:
[God’s] knowledge of things is not derived from them, so that there is multiplicity
and renewal, but the things in question follow upon His knowledge, which preceded
and established them as they are—either as a separate existence, or as the existence
of an individual endowed with permanent matter, or as the existence of what is endowed with matter of changing individuals, following in an incorruptible and immutable order. Hence, with regard to Him, may He be praised, there is no multiplicity
of cognitions and no renewal and change of knowledge. For through knowing the
true reality of His own immutable essence, He knows the totality of what necessarily
derives from all His acts [
]. . . . For him who accepts the truth in his study of true reality it is, therefore,
appropriate to believe that nothing at all is hidden from Him, may He be praised,
but that everything is revealed to His knowledge which is His essence [
]. (441–42)
The difference, therefore, between God’s knowledge of the created world and
human knowledge of the created world is that human knowledge is derived from
the effects of God’s causal activity, whereas God’s knowledge is derived from the
cause of existents, i.e., from God himself. God’s knowledge comprises the entire
Aristotelian universe with its threefold structure: the separate intellects (the “separate existence”); the celestial spheres, (“the existence of an individual endowed
with permanent matter”); the objects of the sublunary world, (“the existence of
what is endowed with matter of changing individuals, following in an incorruptible and immutable order”). In the last sentence of the quotation Maimonides
seems to affirm that God’s knowledge of the sublunary world is not confined to
the universal forms—the genera and species of existents—but comprises the individuals within them as well. Guide III, 20 is yet clearer on this issue: “As there is a
necessarily existing substance from which every existent necessarily derives . . . so
do we say that this substance apprehends everything that is other than itself [twmx[h
htlwz rça lk tgçm ayhh], nothing remaining hidden from it in any way from everything that it produced” (438).48
48
This claim is consistent with the fact that for Maimonides God’s causal activity determines not
only the universal form of the sublunary existents but—through the mediation of the celestial spheres—
also the particular features of every individual composed of matter and form. The non-essential, particularizing features of the individual are due to the disposition of the material substratum, in which
the form inheres (cf. Guide II, 12). The substratum is moved “so as to predispose it to receive the
form” (Guide II, Introduction, Premise 25). Both the four sublunary elements, which constitute the
substratum, and their particular mixture, which determines its disposition, are the effect of the celestial spheres: The differentiation of prime matter into the four elements is a function of the distance of
the regions of prime matter from the sphere of the moon (cf. Guide II, 19). The mixture of the four
elements is caused by the motion of the celestial spheres. Cf. Guide II, 10, where Maimonides describes the impact of the spheres on the elements, and Guide III, 2–5, where he uses this theory for the
interpretation of Ezekiel’s vision of the divine chariot. In Guide II, 11 Maimonides gives an account of
the causal chain leading from God to the sublunary world through the intermediary of the separate
MAIMONIDES AND SPINOZA ON GOD
185
Since, as we saw in Guide I, 68, Maimonides affirms the identity of the object of
God’s knowledge with God’s essence, it follows that in some sense God’s essence
for him is the threefold structure of the Aristotelian universe. Already in the 14th
century Profiat Duran (Efodi) had drawn this conclusion in his commentary on
the Guide, which was also printed in the edition used by Spinoza:49
In this chapter [Maimonides] solved a certain doubt without mentioning this doubt,
viz., how God, exalted be He, knows all existents without being subject to change
and multiplicity, and he solved the problem as follows: All the existents are inscribed
in His essence, blessed be He, and His essence, exalted be He, is one form which
comprises all existents according to their subdivisions [
]: intellectual existents, spherical existents and terrestrial existents. (31b)
Since God’s essence is described as “form,” I assume that by “all existents”
Profiat Duran means the formal component of all existents, not their matter.50
The argument leading to the conclusion that the form of all existents is inscribed
in God’s essence may be reconstructed as follows:
1. Premise:
2. Premise:
Conclusion I:
3. Premise:
Conclusion II:
4. Premise:
Conclusion III:
God is the first cause of the form of all existents.
God cognizes himself.
God cognizes the first cause of the form of all existents.
The cognition of the cause entails the cognition of the effect.51
God cognizes the form of all existents, of which he is the cause.
In God the subject of intellection and the object of intellection are
identical.
God and the form of all existents cognized by him are identical.
As we saw above, God’s essence is his intellect, and the essence of the intellect
is its activity, or “the act of the intellect.” It is, therefore, this “act of the intellect”
which in some sense must be identical to the form of all existents. As a consequence, God’s intellectual activity comprises two components: God forms the idea
of himself or his essence (self-intellection), and of all things that follow from his
essence (intellection of the form of all existents). If this is so, God’s intellectual
intellects and the celestial spheres. If God indeed knows the totality of what follows from his causal
activity, his knowledge must include both the universal form and the particular features of every entity
in the sublunary world.
49
On Spinoza’s edition of the Guide, see above, note 10. Profiat Duran, Commentary on Guide III,
21, printed in Moreh ha-Nevukhim, Warsaw, 1872.
50
If God were the cause of both form and matter of the created world, this would—in light of the
argument that I am examining—lead to the conclusion that in some way God is the matter of physical
objects as well. Taking into account Maimonides’ emphasis on God’s incorporeality this, to say the
least, is problematic. Note that in Guide I, 69 God is described as the world’s efficient, formal and final
cause, but not as its material cause. It is clear, however, that the ontological status of matter in
Maimonides, as well as its relation to God, require further clarification.
51
Thomas Aquinas formulates this premise as follows: “The more perfectly some principle is
known, the more its effects are known in it, for the caused things are contained in the power of the
principle. It follows that since heaven and all of nature depend on the first principle which is God . . .
it is clear that God, by knowing Himself, knows all things” (Quanto autem aliquod principium perfectius
intelligitur, tanto magis intelligitur in eo effectus eius: nam principiata continentur in virtute principii. Cum
igitur a primo principio, quod est Deus, dependeat caelum et tota natura ... patet, quod Deus cognoscendo seipsum,
omnia cognoscat). Commentary on Metaphysics XII, Lectio 11, in Opera Omnia, 25 vols. (Parma: Ficcadori,
1852–73), vol. 20, 649. See also the application of this principle to God’s knowledge in Summa Theologiae,
I, 1, qu. 14, in particular articles 5, 6 and 11. Cf. Pines, “Themistius,” 290.
186
JOURNAL OF THE HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
44:2
APRIL
2006
activity must be conceived as a unity of the one and the multiple : the intellectual
act, in which the intellect, the subject and the object of intellection are one, and
the intellectual act which cognizes the multiple form of all existents. In Spinoza’s
words, taken from the demonstration of E II, Prop. 3, we can describe this intellectual act as follows: God forms “the idea of his essence and of all things which
necessarily follow from it” (ideam suae essentiae, & omnium, quae necessario ex ea
sequuntur) (G. II, 87). Now, since Maimonides’ God is identical to the idea that he
forms, its contents are clearly not effects outside himself. In other words:
Maimonides’ God (no less than Spinoza’s God) is causa immanens—if not of natura
naturata as a whole, at least of the form of the created world.
How did the created world come into God’s mind on the way from Aristotle to
Maimonides? As S. Pines has shown, the presumably most important source of
this non-Aristotelian interpretation of the divine nou'" is Themistius’s paraphrase
of Metaphysics XII.52 The Greek original of the paraphrase is lost. Extant are fragments of an abridged Arabic translation, a Hebrew translation based on a longer
(probably complete) Arabic translation, and a 16th century Latin translation.53
Let us examine one important passage:
First it [the divine intellect] cognizes itself, then something else
.
. . . It cognizes the intelligibles that are existent in it
not in
the way of [discursively] passing from one to the other; it cognizes all things suddenly at one and the same time. For it cognizes all existent things as they are and as
they were made to exist by it as they are. . . . It cognizes all the existents not as being
extraneous to its nature
or as acts alien to it. But it is it that generates
them and creates them, and they are it
. For God is the Nomos
and
the cause of the order and the arrangement of the existent things. He is a living
Nomos; such as a Nomos would be if it were animate, saw itself and cognized itself.
(17–18)54
Pines drew attention to possible Neoplatonic sources of Themistius, in particular to Plotinus.55 A passage from the Enneads (not quoted by Pines) clearly
supports his assumption. In this passage, Plotinus suggests that nou'" “is like the
first Lawgiver [nomoqevth" prw'to"], or rather is itself the Law of being [novmo" aujto;"
tou' ei\nai].”56 If Themistius’s interpretation of the Aristotelian concept was indeed
influenced by Plotinus, then the unity of the one and the multiple in the divine
intellect may ultimately reflect an effort to unify in the act of God’s self-intellection the first two hypostases of Plotinus’s ontological scheme: the “One” and the
nou'".57 This may in part explain what appears to be a contradiction between
52
On the influence of the Paraphrase on Maimonides, see Pines, “Themistius,” 286–89.
For more detailed information on the Paraphrase, see Rémi Brague’s introduction to his French
translation: Thémistius—Paraphrase de la Métaphysique d’Aristote [Thémistius] (Paris: Vrin, 1999), 9–39.
54
Themistius, Paraphrase of Metaphysics XII 7. Arabic in Aristu ‘ind al-Arab, ed. Abd al-Rahman
Badawi (Cairo, 1947), 12–21; 329–33.
55
Pines, “Themistius,” 277–79.
56
Enn. V 9, 5, 26–29, Plotini Opera, eds. Paul Henry and Hans-Rudolf Schwyzer, 3 vols. (Oxford:
Clarendon Press, 1964–82), vol. 2, 293. Cf. Brague, Thémistius, 39.
57
I intend to examine in more detail the historical background of Themistius’s doctrine in a
forthcoming paper.
53
MAIMONIDES AND SPINOZA ON GOD
187
Maimonides’ via negativa, according to which God is beyond apprehension and
description, and his positive account of God as nou'".58
M A I M O N I D E S’ G O D A S T H E A C T I V I T Y O F T H E C R E AT E D W O R L D
Not only is the form of the created world inscribed in God’s essence, but God’s
activity also is the form of the created world. As I briefly recalled in the introduction, the Aristotelian universe is subdivided into a realm of pure form, viz., God
and the separate intellects, and a realm composed of matter and form, viz., the
physical world. The ultimate source of the forms of physical objects are God’s
“actions.” In fact, for Maimonides “these actions are the forms” (
). They are “the act of one who is not a body” and this act “is called overflow
[[pç]” (Guide II, 12, 243). Because the world is caused by God in this manner the
prophets describe him through metaphors such as the “fountain of life” (Psalm
36:10) which, according to Maimonides, “signifies the overflow of being” (ibid.
244). It is, therefore, not surprising that Maimonides frequently speaks about the
apprehension of God through his “actions” in nature. But what precisely are these
“actions” (la[pa in Arabic, the plural of l[p, which we saw in the expression “act
of the intellect”)? According to Maimonides’ interpretation of the dialogue between God and Moses in Exodus 33:11–23, Moses made two requests: “One request consisted in his asking Him, may He be praised to let him know His essence
and true reality [wttmaw wmx[]. The second request, which he made first, was to let
him know His attributes [wyrat]. And He, may He be praised, answered his two
questions by promising him to let him know all His attributes and that they are
His actions [wytwlw[p]. And He let him know that His essence cannot be grasped as
it really is” (Guide I, 54, 104). God’s “actions,” the apprehension of which was
granted to Moses, are then described as follows:
[Moses] received a [favorable] answer to the first request, i.e., “Show me Thy ways”
(Exodus 33:13). For he was told “I will make all my goodness pass before thee” (Ex.
33:14). . . . This saying “all my goodness” is an allusion to the display to him of all
existents [
] of which it is said “And God saw everything He
had made, and, behold, it was very good” (Genesis 1:31). By ‘display of them to him’
I wish to say that he will apprehend their nature and the way they are connected one
to the other [
], and he will know His governance of them
58
According to S. Pines, Maimonides presents “deux discours philosophiques entre lesquels il
est malaisé ou impossible de faire l’accord.” S. Pines, “Dieu et l’être selon Maïmonide” [“Dieu”], in
Celui qui est: Interprétations juives et chrétiennes d’Exode 3,14, eds. Alain de Libera and Emilie Zum Brunn
(Paris: Editions du Cerf, 1986), 22. This thesis may be too strong. In Guide I, 53, for example,
Maimonides attributes the structure of self-intellection to the God of the via negativa. As in I, 68 he
emphasizes the unity of God’s knowledge and God’s life, and explains that this unity is due to the fact
that God’s self-intellection is God’s life. The same apparent contradiction between two concepts of
God appears in Avicenna, who had a considerable influence on Maimonides’ theology (cf. S. Pines,
“Translator’s Introduction: The Philosophic Sources of The Guide of the Perplexed” [“Sources”], in The
Guide of the Perplexed, trans. S. Pines [Chicago: Chicago University Press, 1963], xcv–xcviii). Since
Avicenna’s concept of God was equally influenced by Themistius, as Pines showed in his article on
Themistius’s paraphrase, my suggestion regarding Maimonides may be valid for Avicenna as well. It
would be interesting to examine in this context if my explanation could solve Alfred Ivry’s difficulty in
relating Maimonides’ God consistently to the God of Plotinus due to his conceptual affinities to both
the Plotinian “One” and nou'". See A. Ivry, “Neoplatonic Currents in Maimonides’ Thought” in Perspectives on Maimonides, ed. Joel L. Kraemer (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991), 127–28.
188
JOURNAL OF THE HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
44:2
APRIL
2006
in general and in detail. To this notion He alluded by saying “He is trusted in all My
house” (Numeri 12:7), i.e., that he has grasped the reality of all my world [
] with a true and unshakable understanding. . . . The apprehension of these
actions [
], therefore, [is an apprehension of] His attributes through which
He is known. . . . It thus became clear that the “ways” which he [Moses] asked to
know, and which were made known to him, are the actions [twlw[ph] which come
from Him, may He be praised. (105–6)
God’s “actions” thus turn out to be the form of “all existents,” i.e., their nature
and interconnection.59 Note that for Aristotle the primary sense of ‘nature’ (fuvs i")
is the “essential form” (oujs iva) of a natural thing through which it is what it is.60 In
short: the “actions” which were “made known” to Moses are the form of the created world. But this is precisely what God himself apprehends—only in inverse
perspective: by knowing himself as the first cause of nature and thereby knowing
everything that follows from himself. This seems to allow the following inference:
In the manner which I just mentioned, God’s “actions” in nature are the object of
his knowledge. The object of God’s knowledge is his essence. God’s essence, as we
saw above, is the “act” of God’s self-intellection. Ergo God’s “act” of self-intellection is identical to his “actions” in nature. As far as the nature of “all existents” and
their interconnection is concerned, God, therefore, is nature. One and the same
act is God’s self-intellection, the intellectual cognition of all that follows from
God, and the form of “all existents.” If Maimonides, in this context, uses the plural “actions” rather than the singular “act,” he apparently means the “act of the
intellect” considered under the aspect of its multiple content. Ultimately, however, there is only one act that is perceived in two ways: as constituting God’s essence and as the form of “all existents.” In Guide II, 12 Maimonides in fact uses the
singular: “[T]he universe is His act [
]” (243, emphasis added). It would,
moreover, hardly be compatible with God’s unity if his activity in nature were
different from the act of self-intellection constituting his essence. As Maimonides
himself stresses: “[A]ll His different acts [in nature], may He be exalted, are carried out by means of His essence, and not, as we have made clear, by means of a
superadded notion” (Guide I, 52).61
Considering these implications it is not surprising to find Maimonides referring to God’s activity synonymously as “divine actions” and “natural actions”:
59
On God’s actions in nature, cf. Guide III, 53.
Metaphysics V, 4 1015a 13–15.
61
Of course, my account of God’s actions blatantly contradicts Maimonides’ negative theology
(Guide I, 50–60), in the course of which he explicitly asserts that the attributes of actions are “remote
from the essence of the thing of which” they are “predicated” (Guide I, 52, 103). The essence of God,
according to the via negativa, has nothing in common with the world, whereas the essence of God
insofar as he is the act of self-intellection, according to my interpretation, is identical to the form of
the world. If my interpretation is accurate this must be a contradiction due to “the seventh cause”
(Guide I, Introduction, 16). Cf. Leo Strauss, “The literary character of The Guide of the Perplexed,” in
Persecution and the Art of Writing (Glencoe: The Free Press, 1952), 38–94. That Maimonides’ account of
God according to the via negativa appears to contradict his account of God as self-intellection has
been noted long ago. See Pines, “Sources,” xcvii–xcviii. Already Hasdai Crescas pointed out that
Maimonides’ presentation of the via negativa as a way of acquiring knowledge of God contains deliberate contradictions and is part of the Guide’s exoteric teachings. See W. Z. Harvey, Hasdai Crescas’s
Critique of the Theory of the Acquired Intellect, Ph.D. Dissertation (Columbia University, 1973), Excursus I,
189–204. I will deal in more detail with this issue in Appendix 1.
60
MAIMONIDES AND SPINOZA ON GOD
189
If you contemplate the divine actions, I mean to say the natural actions [
], God’s ruse [hwlah tmr[] and wisdom will become clear to you from them in the creation of the living being, and in the gradation
of the motions of the limbs, and the proximity of some of them to others. (Guide III,
32, 484)
Perhaps Spinoza would have read here actiones divinae sive naturales.62 Clearly
for Maimonides there is only one set of actions, which considered from the point
of view of God is the content of his intellectual apprehension, i.e., God’s wisdom,
and considered from the point of view of the created world is the form of “all
existents.” Maimonides’ concept of God’s activity is thus very close to Spinoza’s in
E II, Prop. 3, Schol.: “God acts with the same necessity by which he intellectually
cognizes himself [Deum eadem necessitate agere, qua seipsum intellegit], i.e., just as it
follows from the necessity of the divine nature (as everyone maintains unanimously)
that God intellectually cognizes himself [ut Deus seipsum intelligat], with the same
necessity it also follows that God does infinitely many things in infinitely many
modes [ut Deus infinita infinitis modis agat]” (G. II, 87). Maimonides’ God, although
he does not do infinitely many things in infinitely many modes, does act in nature
with the same necessity by which he intellectually cognizes himself. Let me note,
however, that in order to reach Spinoza’s ordo idearum and ordo rerum from
Maimonides’ actiones divinae sive naturales, the ontology of form and matter has to
be replaced through the ontology of thought and extension. For Maimonides,
God’s intellectual activity and his activity in nature are two aspects of a God confined to thinking. For Spinoza the ordo idearum and the ordo rerum are two sides of
a God whose activity constitutes both thought and extension.
Against this background, it becomes clear how Maimonides can claim that
God’s power, will, and knowledge are identical to his essence. The same act, which
constitutes God’s essence, is the act through which God forms an idea of himself
and of everything that follows from himself, and through which he wills and establishes the order of nature:63
For this reason we, the community which truly professes unity, say: as we do not say
that in His essence there is a further component [˜yn[] through which He created the
heavens, another component through which He created the elements, and a third
component through which He created the intellects—in the same way we do not say
that in Him there is a further component through which He has power, another
component through which He has will, and a third component through which He
knows His creatures [
]. But His
essence is one and simple [fwçp dja wmx[], and in no respect is there an additional
component in it. This essence created everything that it created and knows it, but
absolutely not through a further component. (Guide I, 53, 104)64
62
Cf. Pines, “Sources,” xcvi, note 66.
When Maimonides, therefore, in Guide II, 20 explains the necessity, with which according to
Aristotle the world proceeds from God, as “somewhat like the necessity of the derivation of an intellectum
from an intellect” (273) this seems to be more than just an analogy. Cf. Harvey, “Portrait,” 162, note
57.
64
Cf. Guide I, 69, 146. Note that before the above quoted passage in I, 53, Maimonides emphasizes the identity of God’s knowledge and God’s life, because “everyone who apprehends his own
essence possesses both life and knowledge by virtue of the same thing. For we wished to signify by
knowledge the apprehension of one’s own essence.” This passage clearly links the discussion of God’s
unity in I, 53 to the account of God’s unity as the act of self-intellection in I, 68.
63
190
JOURNAL OF THE HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
44:2
APRIL
2006
Moreover, we can understand now what Maimonides means when he speaks of
God as the “form” or “essence,” as well as the “life” of the world. God’s life is
identical to his essence, and at the same time the act that determines and constitutes the form of the world:
God, therefore, is with regard to [the world] like the form with regard to the thing that
has a form, through which it is what it is [
]; and through the form its true reality and essence subsist—such is
the relation of God to the world [
]. . . . For this reason, [God] is
called in our language the “Living of the world” [
] (Daniel 12:7) meaning
that He is the life of the world, as shall be made clear. (Guide I, 69, 145–46)
God is thus related to the world as a form is related to a “thing.” Just as a thing
is what it is due to its form—for example a tree is a tree due to the form of a tree—
so the world is what it is due to God. Now, we answer the question “what is it?” with
regard to a tree by naming its formal cause: “a tree.” With regard to the world,
therefore, we would have to answer the same question with “God.” In this sense,
therefore, the world is God. Note also that the description of God as “the life of
the world” suggests that as the “fountain of life” God is not outside of that which
“overflows” from him.65
No doubt, the thesis that the one and the multiple are unified in God’s act of
self-intellection is an interesting claim. What it precisely means, however, is far
from obvious. I do not think that Maimonides had a definite answer to this question. In order to explain how the multiplicity of nature in some sense is one as
well, the best he was able to suggest was that nature has the unity of an organism:66
Know that this being as whole is one individual [
] and nothing else. I mean to say that the sphere of the outermost heaven with everything that
is within it is undoubtedly one individual. . . . And through this representation it will
also become clear that the One has created one [
]. (Guide I, 72,
159 / 162)
As we already saw in the above quoted passage from Guide III, 32, God’s wisdom, or the act of God’s intellect, becomes manifest in actiones divinae sive naturales, which produce and structure “living beings,” i.e., organisms, and ultimately
“this being as a whole.” The unity-in-multiplicity of the organism, therefore, characterizes both the structure of God’s intellect and the structure of the created
word.67
That which unifies the created world is in a certain sense its teleological structure.68 In Guide III, 25 Maimonides explains what it means that according to “the
Law of Moses our Master” all of God’s actions “are very good” (dam twbwf):
65
For God as the “fountain of life,” see Guide II, 12 quoted above.
For a critical discussion of L. Roth’s account of Spinoza’s dependence on Maimonides with
regard to the notion of unity of God and nature, see Appendix 2.
67
Once again in the final analysis Neoplatonic sources of Maimonides’ account become visible:
Plotinus had explained the unity-in-multiplicity of the content of nou'" as the structure of Plato’s “allcomplete living being” (Timaeus 30c ff.). See, e.g., Enn. VI 2, 21, 53–59. As suggested above, Themistius’s
interpretation of the divine intellect was influenced by Plotinus’s account.
68
See Aristotle’s teleological explanations of the parts of animals in De partibus animalium. The
animal’s form in a sense may be said to entail the individual features of the animal. And see Maimonides’
comparison of the structure of the universe to the structure of the body of an animal in Guide II, 19,
270.
66
MAIMONIDES AND SPINOZA ON GOD
191
[Moses] says “And God saw every thing that He had made, and, behold, it was very
good” (Genesis 1:31). And everything that He, may He be praised, has done for the
sake of a thing is either necessary for the existence of the intended thing, or is very
useful for it [
]. . . . I mean to say that everything that is not artificial—they are actions through which some end [tylkt] is sought,
regardless whether we do or do not know that end. (461–62)˜
For example “the nourishment of a living being is necessary for its preservation [wtdym[]” and “the existence of its two eyes is very useful for its preservation”
(462). Thus the “natural actions” (twy[bfh twlw[ph) are “actions of great wisdom”
(hlwdg hmkj twlw[p): they are “all well arranged and ordered and bound up with
one another [
], all of them being causes and effects” (463). The “ultimate telos” (˜wçarh ˜wwkmh)” of God’s activity in nature, according to Maimonides, is being itself: “to bring into being everything whose existence is
possible, existence being indubitably a good [
]” (464, emphasis added).69 Just as God thinks all possible things—since
in his intellectual activity “there is absolutely no potentiality”—God also produces
all possible things. And since the intellectual act and the creative act are the same
act, which is God’s essence, God once again should be conceived as identical not
only to the content of his act of intellection but also to the products of his act of
creation. The equation of “being” and “good” underlying Maimonides’ explanation of the telos of God’s creation is stated clearly in Guide III, 10:
All his acts, may He be praised, are an absolute good; for He only produces being,
and all being is good [bwf twayxm lkw twayxm qr hçw[ wnya awh]. . . . Accordingly the true
reality of the act of God in its entirety is good, because it is being [
]. (396–97)
In light of this equation we should also interpret Maimonides’ assertion in
Guide III, 19: “No doubt it is a primary notion that all good things must exist in
God” (434).70 If good things simply are things that are, then this assertion can
easily be translated into Spinoza’s famous proposition: Quicquid est in Deo est (E I,
Prop. 15, G. II, 56).71
I should emphasize, however, that Maimonides’ teleology is not anthropocentric.72 Every existent is created for the sake of being, that is: both for the sake of
69
This is a good illustration of what Arthur O. Lovejoy calls the “strange and pregnant theorem
of the ‘fullness’ of the realization of conceptual possibility in actuality,” or, “the principle of plenitude.” The Great Chain of Being [Great Chain] (New York: Harper and Brothers, 1960), 52. Lovejoy has
well shown how this principle originated in Plato’s Timaeus and was mediated to the Middle Ages
through the Neoplatonic interpretation of Plato’s metaphysics.
70
The Arabic term that I translated as ‘good things’ is tary’kla (344). Ibn Tibbon translated it
into Hebrew as twywmlç which should be rendered as ‘perfections.’ The Arabic term for ‘perfections,’
however, is
On the semantic level, the distinction is not particularly important, for both ‘good’
and ‘perfect’ denote ‘being’ in the present context. Note that Maimonides uses ‘good’ (ry’k) also in
the passage from Guide III, 10 quoted above when stating that the “true reality of the act of God in its
entirety is good” (ary’k hlk hlla l[p ’hqyqj ˜wktp) (317).
71
On the equation of “being” and “good” in both Maimonides and Spinoza, see W. Z. Harvey,
“Maimonides and Spinoza on the knowledge of good and evil” [“Knowledge”], Iyyun 28 / 4 (1978),
173–77 (Heb.).
72
For Maimonides’ explicit rejection of anthropocentrism, see particularly Guide III, 13. On the
influence of Maimonides’ anti-anthropocentric position on Spinoza, cf. Harvey, “Portrait,” 162–65.
But in contrast to Harvey, I would not describe Maimonides’ view as “antiteleological” (165). I see it as
teleological in the non-anthropocentric sense I have described.
192
JOURNAL OF THE HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
44:2
APRIL
2006
itself as this particular existent, and for the sake of God who somehow is the totality of existents.73 This is certainly not the concept of teleology that Spinoza criticizes in the Appendix to the first part of the Ethics. Rather, I believe, Maimonides
would give the same answer as Spinoza to the question why God created things
that from a human perspective appear as imperfections: “I answer only because
he did not lack material to create all things, from the highest degree of perfection
to the lowest; or, to speak more properly, because the laws of his nature have been
so ample that they sufficed for producing all things which can be conceived by an
infinite intellect [ad omnia, quae ab aliquo infinito intellectu concipi possunt,
producenda]” (G. II, 83).74 For Spinoza, as for Maimonides, God’s goodness or
perfection75 means that he thinks and produces all possible things which in a
sense means that he thinks and produces himself.
The fundamental problem with which Maimonides was confronted was the
doctrine of God’s incorporeality.76 In my view Maimonides was committed to God’s
incorporeality for purely philosophical reasons. To abandon this doctrine would
have meant to abandon the system of Aristotelian physics and metaphysics as a
whole, on the premises of which not only the proofs for God’s incorporeality but
also for God’s unity and existence were based.77 If on the other hand Spinoza had
convinced him that a corporeal substance is conceivable which is active, indivisible and infinite, i.e., not subject to any of the deficiencies that a medieval Aristotelian associated with matter, I cannot see why Maimonides should have refused
to accept extension as an attribute of God.78
An incorporeal God, however, who transcends the physical world, and who at
the same time is the activity and form of the physical world, seems rather inconsistent. Maimonides clearly saw the problem, but he did not know how to solve it:
And God, may He be praised, is not a power in the body of the world, but is separate
from all parts of the world. But His governance, may He be praised, and His providence are connected to the world in its entirety through a connection, the end and
true reality of which are hidden from us, and the faculties of human beings are
insufficient to understand this [wt[dl twrxqm]. For the demonstration is valid that He,
73
Cf. Maimonides’ twofold exegesis of Proverbia 16:4 in Guide III, 13, and Harvey, “Portrait,” 164.
God is “somehow” the totality of existents because for Maimonides he is immaterial. But if “all good
things must exist in God,” and good things are simply things that are, the exclusion of matter from
God seems to imply that matter in some sense is not being. For Themistius’s formulation that God is
“somehow [pw`"] . . . the existents themselves [aujta; ta; o[nta],” translated as aliqualiter . . . ipsa entia by
William of Moerbeke, see Pines, “Themistius,” 187 with note 44. Note also that if the good is being
and if being is God, then this version of teleology does not compromise God’s freedom. His acts are
determined through what is good, i.e., determined through himself and in this sense self-determined.
God, therefore, is free in the sense of E I, Def. 7: “A thing is called free [libera] . . . if it is determined to
act only through itself [a se sola ad agendum determinatur]” (G. II, 46).
74
Spinoza thus inherited the “principle of plenitude.” See Lovejoy, Great Chain, 151–55. Cf. his
comments on Abaelard’s proximity to Spinoza, in Great Chain, 71–73.
75
On the synonymity of the terms ‘good’ and ‘perfect’ in this context, see below. Cf. Harvey,
“Knowledge,” 176–77.
76
For a differing view, see Yossef Schwartz, “Ecce est locus apud me: Eckharts’ und Maimonides’
Raumvorstellung als Begriff des Göttlichen” [“Eckharts’ und Maimonides’ Raumvorstellung”], Miscellanea Mediaevalia 25 (1997), 348–64.
77
For the Aristotelian premises and proofs, see Guide II, Introduction and ch. 1. See also SM,
Foundations, ch. 1.
78
I will deal with this issue in more detail in Appendix 1.
MAIMONIDES AND SPINOZA ON GOD
193
may He be praised, is separate from the world and free from it, and the demonstration is valid that the acts of His governance and providence exist in every one of the
parts of the world, however small and contemptible [
].
May He whose perfection has defeated us be glorified! (Guide I, 72, 167)
It is, therefore, the doctrine of God’s incorporeality which prevented
Maimonides from completely unifying God and nature. Although the same activity determines and constitutes the structure of God’s intellect and the structure of
the created world, they are not one and the same thing. This, I think, is the cloud,
which according to Spinoza prevented Maimonides from apprehending God
clearly and distinctly. As a consequence of God’s incorporeality, the world remains
mysteriously inside and outside God, and God remains mysteriously inside and
outside the world.
T H E A R I S T O T E L I A N G O D I N T H E C O G I TATA M E TA P H Y S I C A:
Spinoza’s account of the divine intellect and its relation to the world in the Cogitata
Metaphysica comprises all significant features that we found in Maimonides’ account. Moreover, Spinoza is aware of the same problems and hints at the same
solutions as the medieval Aristotelian. I should recall in this context that the chapter
in which Spinoza discusses the divine intellect (De intellectu Dei) follows the chapter in which he discusses God’s life (De vita Dei). This chapter ends with the passage quoted above, attesting to Spinoza’s acquaintance with Maimonides’ discussion of God’s twofold knowledge in the Mishneh Torah. Let me, however, emphasize
again that I do not claim that Maimonides was Spinoza’s only source for the doctrine in question. As already mentioned, Spinoza read works of several Jewish
philosophers, from Abraham ibn Ezra to Leone Ebreo, in which the doctrine
appears. Moreover, Latin translations of Avicenna, Ghazali, Averroes, and
Maimonides introduced the doctrine into Christian Aristotelianism. Its impact
can already be discerned in Albertus Magnus and through Thomas Aquinas it
became part of the mainstream of Scholastic thought with which Spinoza was to
some extent familiar.79 Although I will discuss the traits of Spinoza’s metaphysics
only in light of Maimonides’ doctrine of God, I therefore do not intend to imply
that they cannot be found in other texts which may in one way or another have
influenced Spinoza.
79
For references to Jewish philosophers, see above, note 26. For the doctrine in Latin translations of medieval Muslim works, see, e.g., Avicenna Latinus, Liber de Philosophia Prima sive Scientia Divina,
ed. Simone Van Riet, vol. 2, bk. 8, chs. 6–7 (Louvain: E. Peeters and Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1980); the
“Tractatus Tercius” in the Latin translation of the metaphysics of Ghazali’s Intentions of the Philosophers,
in Algazel’s Metaphysics—A Medieval Translation, ed. J. T. Muckle (Toronto: The Institute of Medieval
Studies, 1933), 62–89; Averroes’ long commentary on Metaphysics XII, in: Aristotelis Opera cum Averrois
Comentariis, (Venetiis apud Junctas, 1562–1574; Reprint: Frankfurt a. Main: Minerva, 1962), vol. 8,
290v–340r (note that Averroes also critically discusses Themistius’s doctrine of God’s knowledge as
presented in the Paraphrase on Metaphysics XII quoted above; see, e.g., 336v); Maimonides, Dux Neutrorum
seu dubiorum, ed. Augustinus Justinianus, anonymous Latin trans. (Paris, 1520; Reprint: Frankfurt a.
Main: Minerva, 1964 [published under the title: Dux seu Director dubitantium aut perplexorum]). For
Thomas Aquinas, see Summa Theologiae I, 1, qu. 15; Summa contra Gentiles I, ch. 49. Cf. also Pines,
“Themistius.” On Spinoza’s knowledge of Scholasticism, see Jacob Freudenthal: “Spinoza und die
Scholastik” [“Scholastik”], in Philosophische Aufsätze—Eduard Zeller zu seinem fünfzigjährigen Doctor-Jubiläum
gewidmet (Leipzig: Fues’s Verlag, 1887), 85–138.
194
JOURNAL OF THE HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
44:2
APRIL
2006
The status of the CM in Spinoza’s work, and, in particular, the question to
which degree it represents a stage in the evolution of his thought, continues to be
debated among scholars.80 For my purpose, it is sufficient that the CM is evidence
for Spinoza’s familiarity with the doctrine of the divine intellect as it was adopted
by Maimonides.81 All I claim, therefore, is that Spinoza knew the doctrine in question, not that he accepted it as true. I do think on the other hand that important
aspects of this doctrine recur in Spinoza’s own concept of God. The latter claim I
will attempt to substantiate in the next section. For now let us see how the features
of Maimonides’ God reappear in the CM:
(i) Just as Maimonides, Spinoza in the CM describes God as self-intellection:
[O]utside God there is no object of his knowledge, but he himself is the object of his
knowledge or rather, is his own knowledge [ipse sit scientiae suae objectum, imo sua
scientia]. (CM II, 7 / G. I, 262)
(ii) Like Maimonides’ God, who is essentially intellectual activity, in which “there
is no potentiality,” Spinoza describes God as “pure act” (actus purus) (CM II, 3 / G.
I, 254). Spinoza also speaks of God’s “active essence” (essentia actuosa) which is
explained by attributes such as “understanding, will, life, omnipotence etc.” (CM
II, 11 / G. I, 275). Note that Spinoza uses the peculiar term essentia actuosa to
describe God’s activity also in the Ethics, in a key passage for my argumentation
that I will examine below.
(iii) In God, subject and object of intellection are one and the same. God’s
idea of himself is one, absolutely simple and identical to his essence:
Finally . . . we must satisfactorily consider the question . . . whether in God there are
many ideas, or only one and absolutely simple. To this I reply that the idea of God
through which he is called omniscient is unique and absolutely simple [unica, &
simplicissima]. For indeed, God is called omniscient for no other reason than because he has the idea of himself [quia habet ideam sui ipsius], and this idea or cognition has always existed together with God. For it is nothing but his essence [nihil enim
est praeter ejus essentiam]. (CM II, 7 / G. I, 263)
(iv) Spinoza draws the same distinction as Maimonides between the genesis of
ideas in the human intellect a posteriori, and in the divine intellect a priori. Just as
for Maimonides created “things . . . follow upon His knowledge which preceded
80
For a discussion of the place of the CM in Spinoza’s work, see Appendix 2.
According to M. Joel, the CM reflects the distinctive influence of medieval Jewish philosophy
on Spinoza’s thought. The work has einen eigentümlichen Charakter, den ich dahin bestimmen zu müssen
glaube, dass er in ihnen die Lesefrüchte aus jüdischen Philosophen, natürlich mit selbständigem Geiste, dazu
verwendet, um innerhalb des Cartesianischen Systems solche Fragen zu lösen, die bei Cartesius entweder gar nicht
oder nur kurz berührt werden (Joel, Genesis, 47). Freudenthal, however, after examining in detail Spinoza’s
terminology and concepts in the CM, draws attention to numerous parallels in the Schriften älterer und
jüngerer Scholastiker, which attest to the more significant influence (direct or indirect) of scholastic
sources, both medieval and of the 17th century—in particular Heerebord, whom Spinoza mentions in
CM II, 12, and who possibly was his teacher at the university of Leiden (“Scholastik,” 102–38). Given
the ample evidence Freudenthal adduces, his general conclusion can hardly be disputed. It should be
noted, however, that with regard to the particular passages that concern us here, Freudenthal usually
did not indicate scholastic sources, or at least indicated Jewish sources as well. This is especially true
for the chapter on the divine intellect (CM II, 7). With regard to this specific issue, the literary evidence,
as well as the manifold structural parallels, in my view sufficiently show that Maimonides was among
Spinoza’s most important sources.
81
MAIMONIDES AND SPINOZA ON GOD
195
and established them as they are,” so for Spinoza God’s intellectual activity is the
cause of the existence and essence of everything that he has created:
From God’s perfection it also follows that his ideas are not determined, as ours are,
by objects placed outside God [ab objectis extra Deum positis]. On the contrary, the
things which have been created by God outside God are determined through God’s
intellect [a Dei intellectu determinantur]. . . . The things with regard to essence and
existence are produced [fabricatae sunt] from his intellect or will. (CM II, 7 / G. I,
261–62)
Hence for Spinoza as well, knowledge of the cause entails knowledge of the
effect. By knowing himself God knows the first cause of nature, and as a consequence everything that follows from his causal activity. In this sense “God’s intellect . . . intellectually cognizes the created things” (intellectum Dei . . . res creatas
intelligit) (CM II, 7 / G. I, 261).
(v) Spinoza, like Maimonides, denies that God’s knowledge is confined to “eternal things.”82 God apprehends everything that depends on his causal activity, and,
therefore, also “singular things”:
But in the meantime we must not leave out the error of certain [writers] who state
that God cognizes nothing but eternal things, such as angels and heavens, which
they have imagined as not being subject to generation or to corruption by their
nature [Deum nihil praeter res aeternas cognoscere, ut nempe angelos, & coelos, quos sua
natura ingenerabiles, & incorruptibiles finxerunt]. . . . These seem almost with enthusiasm to want to go astray and to invent the greatest absurdities. For what is more
absurd than to deprive God of the cognition of singular things, which cannot subsist
even for a moment without God’s concurrence? . . . We, on the contrary, attribute
cognition of singular things to God [Nos autem contra Deo singularium cognitionem
tribuimus]. (CM II, 7 / G. I, 262–63)
(vi) Since God, as we saw, is identical to the object of his knowledge, it follows
that he must also be identical to the created things he apprehends. Just as in
Maimonides, therefore, God’s essentia actuosa in the CM must be conceived as a
unity of the one and the multiple : the act in which the intellect, the subject and the
object of intellection are one and absolutely simple, and the act through which
God cognizes all existents of which he is the cause. Hence, the God of the CM,
like Maimonides’ God, is causa immanens—if not of natura naturata as a whole at
least of the form of the created world.
(vii) Spinoza, I believe, would certainly not object to describing the activity of
the God in the CM as both divina and naturalis. For him, as for Maimonides, the
same act which constitutes God’s essence is the act through which God forms an
idea of himself and of everything that follows from himself and through which he
82
This is one of the views attributed by Maimonides to the “philosophers” in Guide III, 20. According to this view God “only knows the permanent immutable things” because the claim that his
knowledge extends to individuals is incompatible with the assumption that it cannot have for its object
either a non-existent thing or the infinite. The “permanent immutable things” are the separate intellects, which Maimonides also describes as angels (see, e.g., Guide II, 6), and the celestial spheres, i.e.
precisely the two entities mentioned by Spinoza in the quotation below. A second view described by
Maimonides denies even knowledge of permanent immutable things of God because the multiplicity
that such knowledge seems to entail is considered incompatible with God’s unity. This, of course, is
Aristotle’s view in Metaphysics XII 9 discussed above.
196
JOURNAL OF THE HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
44:2
APRIL
2006
wills and establishes the order of nature. A note to the passage quoted above, in
which Spinoza states that all things “created by God, are determined by God’s
intellect,” draws the following conclusion: “From this it clearly follows that God’s
intellect [intellectum Dei], through which he intellectually cognizes the created
things [res creata intelligit], and his will and power [voluntatem, & potentiam], through
which he determines them, are one and the same” (CM II, 7 / G. I, 261). The
identity of God’s will, power and intellect is again clearly stated in CM II, 8:
Will and Power with regard to external things are not distinguished from God’s intellect [Voluntas, & Potentia quoad extra non distinguuntur a Dei intellectu], as is already
sufficiently clear from what was said above. For we have shown that God not only
decreed that things exist, but also that they exist with such a nature, that is, that their
essence and their existence must depend on the will and power of God. From which
we perceive clearly and distinctly that God’s intellect and his power and will, through
which he has created, intellectually cognized, and preserves, or loves, created things,
are not distinguished from one another in any way, but only with regard to our
thoughts [sed tantum respectu nostrae cogitationis]. (G. I, 264)
(viii) The reconciliation of unity and multiplicity in God’s intellect which as we
saw posed a problem to Maimonides is likewise presented as a problem in the CM.
And the solution that Spinoza suggests is the same as that of the medieval Aristotelian:
But God’s cognition concerning created things cannot properly be referred to God’s
knowledge [At cognitio Dei circa res creatas non adeo proprie ad scientiam Dei referri potest].
. . . It should be asked whether this properly or improperly so-called cognition of
created things is multiple or one. But, so we could reply, this question is in nothing
different from the questions asking whether God’s decrees and volitions are many or
not and whether God’s omnipresence, or the concurrence through which he preserves singular things, is the same in all things. Concerning these questions we already said that we can have no distinct cognition. Nevertheless we know most evidently that in the same way as God’s concurrence, if it is referred to God’s omnipotence, must be unique, although it becomes manifest in different ways in the effects,
so also God’s volitions and decrees (for so it pleases us to call his cognition concerning created things), considered in God are not many, although they are expressed in
different ways through created things, or better: in created things. Finally, if we attend to the proportion of the whole of nature, we can consider it as one being, and
consequently there will only be one idea of God, or decree with regard to created
nature [si ad analogiam totius naturae attendimus, ipsam, ut unum ens, considerare possumus, & per consequens una tantum erit Dei idea, sive decretum de natura naturata]. (CM II,
7 / G I, 263–64)83
(ix) Like Maimonides, Spinoza in the CM describes the structure of natura
naturata as teleological:84
But God is called supremely good, because he acts to the benefit of all [Deus vero
dicitur summe bonus, quia omnibus conducit], by preserving through his concurrence
[suo concursu conservando] the being of each thing, compared to which nothing is
dearer. (CM I, 6 / G. I, 247)
83
Cf. CM II, 9.
That this passage is important for the understanding of Spinoza’s relation to Maimonides, was
also noted by Harvey, “Knowledge,” 176–77.
84
MAIMONIDES AND SPINOZA ON GOD
197
Hence, the “benefit” (i.e. the good) of all, in view to which God acts due to his
supreme goodness is the preservation of his creatures. Similarly, we saw that, for
Maimonides, God’s goodness becomes manifest in that he provides every being
with what is “necessary” or “useful” for its “preservation.” In the KV as well, Spinoza
allows for God to be described as the “greatest good” if this is understood to mean
that he is the “cause of all things” (orzaak van alle dingen) (G. I, 45). Thus both the
bringing into existence and the preserving of all things are due to God’s goodness. Moreover, ‘good’ in this context is used synonymously with ‘perfect.’ In this
sense Spinoza can speak of God as “doing good or bringing about perfection” (KV
I, 4 / G. I, 37, emphasis added). Now, “by perfection” he understands “only reality
[realitatem], or being [esse]” (PP I, Prop. VII, Schol., Lemma 1, Note 2 / G. I,
165).85 In this sense “it is a perfection to exist, and to have been produced by
God” whereas the “greatest imperfection of all is not being” (KV I, 4 / G. I, 37).
Given the equation of being and goodness that, as we saw, is maintained by
Maimonides as well,86 the ultimate telos guiding God’s productive activity becomes
being itself, and thus in a sense God himself of whom “infinite perfection” is
predicated, “that is, infinite essence or infinite being [infinitum esse]” (CM I, 6 /
G. I, 249). Like Maimonides’ God, the God in the CM thinks everything, does
everything, and in a sense is everything.
(x) Spinoza’s God in the CM, however, cannot truly be everything, because he
has the same ontological limitation as the God of Maimonides. He is res cogitans
but not res extensa: “We have divided substances into two highest kinds [summa
genera], extension and thought; thought we have divided into created, or the human Mind, and uncreated, or God” (CM II, 1 / G. I, 250). Like Maimonides,
Spinoza is aware that the simultaneous transcendence of the unextended divine
intellect and its immanence in the physical world is unintelligible:
Now, of course, for God’s omnipresence or presence in each thing [Dei ubiquitas aut
praesentia in singulis rebus] to be properly understood, it would be necessary for us
to know fully the inmost nature of the divine will, by which he has created things and
continually produces them. Since this is beyond man’s grasp, it is impossible to explain how God is everywhere [cum humanum captum superet, impossibile est explicare,
quomodo Deus sit ubique]. (CM II, 3 / G. I, 254)
Hence, the same cloud, which prevented Maimonides from apprehending God
clearly and distinctly, also obscures the concept of God in the Cogitata Metaphysica.
Since God is only thought and not extension, the world is mysteriously inside and
outside God, and God is mysteriously inside and outside the world. Only with the
attribution of extension to God the problem of God’s “omnipresence” is solved.
As Spinoza notes in the KV: “That God is . . . omnipresent” is “attributed to him in
consideration of the attribute of extension” (KV I, 7, Note / G. I, 44).
85
86
Cf. E II, Def. 6.
Cf. Guide III, 10, quoted above.
198
JOURNAL OF THE HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
44:2
APRIL
2006
T H E T R A N S F O R M AT I O N O F T H E A R I S T O T E L I A N G O D :
FROM THE CM TO THE ETHICS
As we have seen, the Cogitata Metaphysica contains much evidence for Spinoza’s
familiarity with the doctrine of the divine intellect that was adopted by Maimonides.
In what follows, I intend to sketch what I think is the metamorphosis of the God
of Maimonides into the God of Spinoza. I should emphasize that it is not more
than a sketch of what I see as the fundamental pattern shared by both doctrines of
God. The full implications of this thesis remain to be examined in more detail.
In the Short Treatise, which represents an early stage of Spinoza’s own philosophical system, God is conceived as a substance, “of which all, or infinite, attributes are predicated, each of which is infinitely perfect in its own kind” (KV I, 2
/ G. I, 19).87 God, therefore, is a being of absolute infinite reality as Spinoza will
define him in the Ethics (cf. E I, Def. 6). God’s infinite attributes include extension: “It is clear that we maintain that extension is an attribute of God” (KV I, 2 /
G. I, 24). Thus, this God is clearly not the divine intellect of medieval
Aristotelianism. As we will see, however, Spinoza conceives the structure of God’s
activity according to the “model” (voorbeeld) of the intellectual activity of
Maimonides’ God.
In KV I, 2 Spinoza discusses the question “what God is.” He is described as a
supremely perfect being, and it is important to bear in mind that ‘perfection’ is
used in a purely ontological sense, synonymously with ‘reality’ or ‘being.’ In the
first Dialogue of the chapter, “Love” (Liefde) poses the question to “Intellect”
(Verstand) whether “you have conceived a supremely perfect being.”88 Intellect
87
Spinoza probably began to work on the KV in late 1660 or early 1661, and was still revising it
when he conceived, and possibly started writing what would become the Ethics in late 1661. Cf. Nadler,
Spinoza, 175–200.
88
The relation of the dialogue to the rest of the KV remains controversial. See Curley’s first note
in The Collected Works of Spinoza [Collected Works], vol. 1, ed. and Eng. trans. E. Curley (Princeton, NJ:
Princeton University Press, 1985), 73. Curley follows Freudenthal against Avenarius: According to the
latter, “this dialogue antedated the rest of the Short Treatise and represented a very early stage of Spinoza’s
thought in which he was primarily under the influence of Bruno.” According to the former, both
dialogues in the chapter “are later than the main body of the work, whose doctrines they presuppose.”
Curley later changed his mind in favor of the assessment of Pierre Lachieze-Rey, according to which
“the first dialogue is earlier than the main text” [Les origines cartésiennes du Dieu de Spinoza, Paris: Vrin,
1950]. The arguments which convinced him were that “the influence of Descartes is reduced to a
minimum . . . and that the dialogue shows the influence of a fundamental conviction of the unity of
nature which Spinoza did not owe to Descartes, and which transformed the materials he did take from
Descartes.” As a consequence, Curley suggests excluding the dialogue from Spinoza’s “earliest substantial written works.” For Curley, Spinoza’s “substantial” intellectual period starts only after his encounter with Descartes. When his “system began to take shape as a rational expression of that original
intuition [concerning the unity of nature], it relied heavily on Cartesian assumptions to derive antiCartesian conclusions” (Geometrical Method, 140, note 2). I do not find Curley’s suggestion plausible.
First, the dialogue does reflect a Cartesian conceptual setting: the discussion focuses on the concepts
of thought, extension and God (or a third substance “which is perfect”), and on the question whether
they can be integrated into one being. In other words, Spinoza in this dialogue is trying to unify
Descartes’s multiple substances (cf. note 23 above). Second and more importantly: even if the influence of Descartes were minimal, I see no good reason to describe non-Cartesian elements in Spinoza’s
thought as an “original intuition” that found its “rational expression” only later thanks to the encounter with Descartes, and that, therefore, belongs to a non-substantial stage of Spinoza’s intellectual
development. I hope that my paper contributes to a correction of this judgment. As I will argue below,
the main reason for an early dating of the dialogue relative to the rest of the work is that it presents
extension and thought as modes, and not as attributes of substance.
MAIMONIDES AND SPINOZA ON GOD
199
refers to “Nature” (Natuur) as such a being, and asks “Reason” (Reede) to explain
what this means. Since ‘perfection’ means reality, Nature is absolutely infinite
reality. This implies that no reality can exist independent of Nature and limit its
being: “Everything,” claims Reason, is “contained in it” (in de zelve begreepen). In
this sense Nature is both “infinite” (oneyndig) and “eternal Unity” (eeuwige Eenheid).
Against this account “Lust” (Begeerlykheid) raises a number of objections, of which
the most important maintains that the claim of “Unity” is incompatible “with the
Diversity [Verscheidentheid] I see everywhere in Nature” (G. I, 28). Reason replies
to this objection: “O Lust! I tell you that what you say you see—that there are
distinct substances [verscheide zelfstandigheeden]—is false” (G. I, 29). The diversity
to which Lust points, does not exist on the level of substance or natura naturans,
but only on the level of modes or natura naturata. It is important to note that in
contrast to the Ethics and to other parts of the KV, Spinoza in this dialogue apparently has not yet conceived his doctrine of divine attributes. The distinction of res
cogitans and res extensa is not due to the perception of substance under different
attributes expressing its essence (cf. E I, Def. 4), but thought and extension here
are modes that relate to substance in the same way as modes of thought such as
will, sense-perception and understanding relate to thought:
Reason: . . . And in the same way as willing, sensing, understanding, loving, etc., are
different modes [verscheide wizen] of what you call a thinking substance [denkende
zelfstandigheid], all of which you lead back to one, making one of all of these, so I also
infer, by your own proof, that infinite extension and thought [oneyndige uytgebreidheid,
en denking], together with other infinite properties [oneyndige eigenschappen]89 (or as
you would say, substances) are nothing but modes [wizen] of that unique, eternal,
infinite Being, existing through itself; and of all these we make, as we have said, One
Unique [being] or Unity, outside which one cannot conceive anything. (G. I., 29–
30)
Lust, however, raises two further objections against this explanation of unity:
Multiplicity remains, according to her, on the one hand, because substance as a
whole is composed of parts, and on the other hand, because substance as a cause
produces a plurality of effects outside itself:
Lust : In this way of speaking that you have, I think I see a very great confusion. For
you seem to want the whole to be something outside or separate from its parts [dat
het geheel iets zoude zyn buyten of zonder syn deelen], which is indeed absurd. . . . Moreover, as I gather from your example, you confuse the whole with the cause [vermengt
gy het geheel met de oorzaak]; for as I say, the whole consists only of or through its parts [het
geheel bestaat alleen van of door syn deelen]; that is why you imagine the thinking
power as a thing on which the intellect, love, etc., depend. And you cannot call it a
whole, but a cause of the effects you have just named. (G. I, 30)
For the explanation of the unity of the alleged multiplicity affecting the relationship between substance and modes, Spinoza recurs to the relationship between the intellect and the objects of intellection. In order to understand his
argument, let us recall the main traits of Maimonides’ account of the intellect in
89
Eigenschap is also used for ‘attribute’ in the technical sense, e.g., KV I, 7, Note (G. I, 44). But
since Spinoza, when he wrote this dialogue, did not yet seem to have conceived the notion of attribute
in this sense, I decided to translate the term here as ‘property.’
200
JOURNAL OF THE HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
44:2
APRIL
2006
Guide I, 68. According to this account the intellect in actu is defined as that which
it apprehends, for “the very being and true reality of the intellect is apprehension.” ‘Apprehension’ again is defined as “the act of the intellect,” which is the
“true reality and the essence of the intellect.” The divine intellect, therefore, is
the intellectual act of apprehending, and what it apprehends is, as we saw, at the
same time one and multiple: God’s essence and everything that follows from it.
With this in mind, let us turn to Reason’s reply to Lust:
Reason: . . . You say, then that since the cause is a producer of its effects, it must be
outside them. You say this because you know only of the transitive [overgaande] and
not of the immanent [inblyvende] cause, which does not in any way produce something outside itself. For example, the intellect is the [immanent] cause of its concepts; that is why I called the intellect a cause (insofar as, or in the respect that its
concepts depend on it); and on the other hand, I call it a whole, because it consists
of its concepts. Similarly, God is, in relation to his effects or creatures, no other than
the immanent cause, and also a whole, because of the second consideration [By
voorbeeld, het verstand, het welk oorzaak is van syn begrippen, en daarom word ook het verstand
van my (voor zoo veel, of in opzigt syne begrippen daar van afhangen) genoemt een oorzaak: En
wederom in opzigt het bestaat van syne begrippen een geheel. Alzoo ook God en is met syne
uytwerzelen of schepzelen geen ander, als een inblyvende oorzaak, en ook een geheel, in opzigt
van de tweede aanmerkinge]. (KV I, 2 / G I, 29–30)90
Spinoza here explains the unity of God with regard to both the relationship of
cause and effects and the relationship of whole and parts according to the model
of intellectual activity.91 Intellectual activity is one because as immanent cause the
intellect produces the objects of intellection in itself, and because the intellect is
identical to the objects of intellection.92 Spinoza, therefore, seems to have preserved the structure of God conceived as intellectual activity while at the same time
expanding the ontological scope of this activity: God in the passage above is no longer
confined to intellectual activity that produces objects of intellection in itself, but
God is also “extending” activity, which produces extended objects in itself, as well
as an infinite number of other activities unknown to us, each of which produces
infinitely many effects of its kind in itself.
The structure of the activity of Maimonides’ divine intellect is the structure of
the activity of Spinoza’s Deus sive Natura also in the Ethics. As we saw above, in E II,
90
Cf. Ibid. (G. I, 26), where the production of concepts through intellectual activity is also used
to illustrate immanent causality.
91
It is interesting to note that Johannes Colerus illustrates Spinoza’s concept of immanent causality in a similar way: “An immanent cause [inblyvende oorzaak] is one that produces an effect in itself.
. . . As when our soul thinks [denkt] . . . it is and remains in these thoughts . . . . Likewise Spinoza’s God
is the cause of the universe and at the time is in it and not outside of it.” See his biography of Spinoza
in J. Freudenthal, Die Lebensgeschichte Spinoza’s (Leipzig: Verlag von Veit & Comp., 1899), 78. Wolfson
misunderstood this passage as implying an analogy between God as immanent cause and the soul’s
immanence in the body (Spinoza, vol. 1, 322, n. 1). But Colerus’s analogy is the same as the one used
by Spinoza in the passage under discussion.
92
He probably did not have in mind exclusively the God of medieval Aristotelianism. Heerebord,
for example, defined causa immanens as the cause “which produces an effect in itself, in the way in
which the intellect is said to be the cause of its concepts” (quae producit effectum in se ipsa, sic dicitur
intellectus causa suorum conceptuu). Cf. Gueroult, Spinoza, vol. 1, 246, n. 10. On Heerebord’s relationship to Spinoza, see above, n. 81. But even if Heerebord was Spinoza’s immediate source for the
terminology used in this context, the medieval discussion certainly must have come back to his mind.
MAIMONIDES AND SPINOZA ON GOD
201
Prop. 1 and 2 Spinoza infers from the fact that we apprehend modes of thought
and extension, that God is res cogitans and res extensa. God as substance or natura
naturans is, therefore, perceived under the attribute of thought and under the
attribute of extension. In E II, Prop. 3 Spinoza then turns to a discussion of the
modes, or natura naturata, of God perceived as res cogitans:
E II, Prop. 3: In God there is necessarily an idea both of his essence and of all things necessarily
following from his essence [tam ejus essentiae, quam omnium, quae ex ipsius essentia
necessario sequuntur].
Dem.: For God (by Prop. 1) can think infinitely many things in infinitely many modes,
or (what is the same, by E I, Prop. 16) can form the idea of his essence and of all
things necessarily following from it [ideam suae essentiae, & omnium, quae necessario ex
ea sequuntur, formare potest]. But whatever is in God’s power necessarily exists (by E I,
Prop. 35); therefore there is necessarily such an idea, and (by E I, Prop. 15) it is only
in God, Q.E.D. (G. II, 87)
Thus, the structure of God conceived as res cogitans corresponds precisely to
the structure of Maimonides’ God conceived as intellectual activity:93 God as cogitatio
forms an idea of his essence and of everything that follows from his essence. Since
for both Maimonides and Spinoza in God there is “absolutely no potentiality,”94
the fact that God can form this idea entails that God does form this idea. Spinoza’s
God as agent forming the idea (i.e. as natura naturans perceived under the attribute of thought) is the subject of intellection in Maimonides’ doctrine of the
divine intellect. Spinoza’s God as the formed idea (i.e. as natura naturata perceived under the attribute of thought) is the object of intellection in Maimonides’
doctrine of the divine intellect.95 The difference between Maimonides’ God and
Spinoza’s is that the latter is not only cogitatio but also extensio, as well as an infinite
number of other things. For this reason the scholium to Prop. 3 expands the scope
of God’s activity from cogitatio to God’s absolutely infinite being:96
Schol.: . . . [In] E I, Prop. 16 we have shown that God acts with the same necessity by
which he intellectually cognizes himself [Deum eadem necessitate agere, qua seipsum
intellegit], i.e., just as it follows from the necessity of the divine nature (as everyone
maintains unanimously) that God intellectually cognizes himself, with the same necessity it also follows that God does infinitely many things in infinitely many modes
[infinita infinitis modis agat]. Then we have shown in E I, Prop. 34 that God’s power is
nothing except God’s active essence [Dei potentiam nihil esse, praeterquam Dei actuosam
essentiam]. And so it is impossible for us to conceive that God does not act as it is to
conceive that he does not exist. (G. II, 87)
93
It is interesting that Freudenthal, in “Scholastik,” 134–35, considered this proposition as somewhat displaced in Spinoza’s argument, and suggested that it belongs to an earlier stage of Spinoza’s
intellectual development reflecting the influence of medieval philosophy on his thought: Man geht
schwerlich fehl, wenn man annimmt, dass Spinoza den Begriff des göttlichen Selbstbewusstseins oder der idea Dei
der mittelalterlichen Philosophie entlehnt habe, dass es ihm aber nicht gelungen sei, diesen Gedanken mit dem
eigenen System in vollständigen Einklang zu bringen.
94
E I, Prop. 34 states that “God’s power [potentia] is his essence itself” (G. II, 76), and E I, Prop. 35
infers from this that “whatever we conceive to be in God’s power, necessarily exists” (G. II, 77). Cf. E I,
Prop. 17, Schol.: “God’s omnipotence has been actual [actu] from eternity and will remain in the
same actuality to eternity” (G. II, 63).
95
For a discussion of E I, Prop. 31, which appears to pose a problem to my reconstruction, see
Appendix 4.
96
Cf. Wolfson, Spinoza, vol. 2, 13–18.
202
JOURNAL OF THE HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
44:2
APRIL
2006
I think it is plausible to assume that what Spinoza calls here essentia actuosa
Dei—God’s active essence—corresponds to the structure of the intellectual activity that according to Maimonides in Guide I, 68 constitutes God’s essence. But
Spinoza once again applies this structure to God’s absolute infinite being. The
fact that he used, as we saw above, the same unusual term, essentia actuosa, in CM
II, 11 to characterize God’s being conceived only as cogitatio, in my view strongly
supports this suggestion. The reference to E I, Prop. 16, moreover, is of considerable importance for understanding the genesis of Spinoza’s concept of God’s causal
activity, for neither in Prop. 16 nor in its demonstration is the medieval model of
God’s self-intellection used to explain the necessity by which God “does infinitely
many things in infinitely many modes”:
E I, Prop. 16: From the necessity of the divine nature [Ex necessitate divinae naturae] there
must follow infinitely many things in infinitely many modes (i.e., everything which can fall
under an infinite intellect). (G. II, 60)
Note that the reference to the infinite intellect in this context serves to explain
the scope of that which follows from the causal necessity of the divine nature, not
that causal necessity itself.
Let us now recall what Spinoza writes in the scholium to E II, Prop. 7: “[T]he
thinking substance and the extended substance are one and the same substance,
which is now comprehended under this attribute, now under that. So also a mode
of extension and the idea of that mode are one and the same thing, but expressed
in two ways.” It is clear, therefore, that the expansion of the ontological scope of
God’s activity, in Spinoza’s view does not affect its unity. God’s activity as thinking
thing is not distinct from God’s activity as extended thing or from God’s activity as
all the other things which his absolute infinite being comprises. It is one activity
perceived under an infinite number of attributes. And the same is true for the
effects which this activity produces in itself.
Let us finally turn to the question of how Spinoza reconciles in the Ethics the
apparent plurality of modes with God’s unity. E II, Prop. 4 addresses this problem
with regard to the modes of thought:
E II, Prop. 4: God’s idea [Idea Dei] from which infinitely many things follow in infinitely
many modes must be unique [unica].
Dem.: An infinite intellect comprehends nothing but God’s attributes and his affections (by E I, Prop. 30). But God is unique [unicus] (by E I, Prop. 14, Cor. 1). Therefore God’s idea, from which infinitely many things follow in infinitely many modes,
must be unique, Q.E.D. (G II, 88)
God’s idea, Spinoza maintains, must be one because God is one. If God’s idea
were not one, it would not adequately represent God and since “a true idea must
correspond to the thing it represents” (idea vera debet cum suo ideato convenire) (E I,
Ax. 6 / G. II, 47), it would follow that God’s idea, i.e., the idea which God forms of
himself, is false. This argument, however, seems more like a petitio principii than a
satisfactory explanation for the unity of the multiple. Ultimately, I think, Spinoza’s
solution in the Ethics is not different from the solution suggested in CM II, 7,
according to which the analogia totius naturae allows us to consider it as unum
ens—a solution, which, as we saw, he shares with and possibly adopted from
Maimonides, who writes in Guide I, 72: “Know that this being as whole is one
MAIMONIDES AND SPINOZA ON GOD
203
individual and nothing else. . . . By means of this representation it will also be
made clear that the One has created one being.” This in any case is precisely the
kind of unity which Spinoza attributes to the modes of extension. The “simplest
bodies” form individuals which, despite their composition, preserve always the
same nature. These individuals become components of individuals of a higher
order, which again are simultaneously composite and one:
E II, Lemma 7, Schol.: But if we should further conceive a third kind of individual,
composed of this second kind, we shall find that it can be affected in many other
ways, without any change of its form [absque ulla ejus formae mutatione]. And if we
proceed in this way to infinity, we shall easily conceive that the whole of nature is one
individual, whose parts, that is, all bodies, vary in infinite ways, without any change of
the whole individual [totam naturam esse Individuum, cujus partes, hoc est omnia corpora
infinitis modis variant, absque ulla totius Individui mutatione]. (G. II, 102)
Given the identity of extension and thought according to E II, Prop. 7, it follows that the unity of the order of extended modes is also the unity of the order of
modes of thought. In this sense “God’s idea, from which infinitely many things
follow in infinitely many modes,” could indeed in some way be conceived as
“unique.”
FROM MAIMONIDES TO SPINOZA—CONCLUDING REMARKS
We have seen that, according to Wolfson, Spinoza’s philosophy marks the dramatic end of “Philonic philosophy,” the medieval philosophical tradition, in which
Maimonides played an important role. In contrast, my analysis agrees with what I
think is Spinoza’s own assessment: that the transition from the God of quidam
Hebraeorum, i.e., of medieval Jewish Aristotelians, to his Deus sive Natura can be
described as the dispersion of a cloud.
Let me now briefly summarize my argumentation. Spinoza’s monism appears
to break with the medieval philosophical tradition in mainly two ways: by abolishing the division of reality into an incorporeal God and a corporeal world, and by
abolishing the division of reality into creator and creation. The former is achieved
through the transformation of the incorporeal principle and the corporeal principle into two attributes of Deus sive Natura; the latter is achieved through the
concept of God as causa immanens, i.e., as a cause that produces its effects inside
itself. On the basis of my examination of Maimonides’ metaphysics—which I chose
with the aim of illustrating a distinct tradition in medieval Aristotelianism that
can be traced back to Themistius—I suggest that there is no fundamental break
between the medieval doctrine of the Aristotelian God and Spinoza’s Deus sive
Natura.
First I showed that Maimonides’ God too is causa immanens of the form of the
created world. “All the existents are inscribed in God’s essence,” as Profiat Duran
aptly put it, because the act of divine self-intellection comprises both God’s essence and everything that follows from God’s essence, and because intellect, subject and object of intellection are identical in God. Hence, one and the same
intellectual act is both God’s essence and the form of the created world. Then I
showed that the form of the created world is not only “inscribed in God’s essence,” but God’s essence is also the form of the created world. The same activity
204
JOURNAL OF THE HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
44:2
APRIL
2006
that determines the structure of God’s intellect is apprehended as God’s “actions”
in nature. It is this aspect of Maimonides’ God that, mutatis mutandis, becomes
Spinoza’s attribute of extension. When Maimonides uses “divine actions” and “natural actions” synonymously he means that there is only one set of actions, which
considered from the point of view of divine intellection is the ordo idearum and
considered from the point of view of the created world is the form of “all existents.” But whereas for Spinoza in E II, Prop. 7 ordo idearum and ordo rerum are
identical, because they are one order perceived under two attributes, for
Maimonides they are not. For this reason Maimonides, in Spinoza’s view, apprehended God only “as if through a cloud,” whereas he himself apprehended God
clearly and distinctly. The cloud consisted in the doctrine of God’s incorporeality
which prevented Maimonides from unifying the intellectual act producing the
ordo idearum in God with the actions constituting the physical world. The consequence of confining God to intellectual activity was that from the point of view of
the physical world, God’s essentia actuosa is at the same time immanent and transcendent, and from the point of view of God, the same is true with regard to the
essentia actuosa of the physical world. Although Maimonides was aware of the resulting ontological inconsistency, he did not have the philosophical tools to solve
it. Due to the doctrine of incorporeality, Maimonides’ God could only be the
form but not the matter of nature.
The main difference between the “nebulous” medieval doctrine and Spinoza’s
doctrine resulted from the attribution of extension to God. In a first step, Spinoza
replaced the medieval Aristotelian ontology of matter and form through an ontology of thought and extension which for him are neither conceptually nor causally related to each other. As a consequence, he no longer conceived the physical
world as composed of active form and passive matter, but reduced it to extended
substance and its modes. In a second step, Spinoza integrated extension as an
attribute into God’s active essence. As a divine attribute, extension for Spinoza is
indivisible, simple, infinite, and active, i.e., has none of the features that prompted
medieval Aristotelians to exclude matter from God.97 Finally, Spinoza unified God’s
cognitive activity, through which he forms an idea of his essence and of everything that follows from his essence, and God’s “extending” activity through which
he produces the physical world. As a consequence, Spinoza was now in a position
to give a consistent account of God’s activity as one act perceived as thought and
extension.
In this sense Spinoza modified the God of the Aristotelian tradition. This, however, certainly does not justify Wolfson’s claim that, for the medieval philosophers,
God and other immaterial beings “had nothing in common with bodies, not having matter as their substratum.”98 On the contrary: Maimonides’ God has everything in common with his creation except for its material substratum. I should
point out that the philosophical tools that Spinoza used for solving the inconsistency in Maimonides’ ontology were not forged by Descartes, but by Hasdai Crescas,
97
98
I will deal with this point in more detail at the end of Appendix 1.
Wolfson, Spinoza, vol. 2, 333; emphasis added.
MAIMONIDES AND SPINOZA ON GOD
205
the medieval Jewish critic of the Aristotelian tradition.99 Descartes not only maintains the existence of “the extended thing [res extensa] that we call body [corpus]
or matter [materiam].”100 He also maintains that God is the cause of res extensa, that
the perfection (i.e., reality) of the cause must at least be equal to, if not “more
eminent” than the perfection of the effect, and that nonetheless “God is not a
body” (Deum non esse corpus).101 For Spinoza, we may therefore conclude, Descartes
apprehended God through the same cloud as the medieval Aristotelians. The
indignation expressed in the scholium to E I, Prop. 15, in fact, could be directed
against either: “[T]hey clearly show that they completely remove [omnino removere]
corporeal or extended substance . . . from the divine nature, and moreover they
claim that it was created by God [a Deo creatam]. But from which divine power
[potentia] it could have been created—this they entirely ignore [prorsus ignorant],
which clearly shows that they do not understand [non intelligere] what they themselves say” (G. II, 57).102
Both literary evidence and a significant number of parallels show that Spinoza
was familiar with Maimonides’ doctrine of God, and that it influenced his account of God in the Cogitata Metaphysica. In the Korte Verhandeling, Spinoza preserves the structure of the “act of the intellect” but expands its ontological scope.
Moreover, he uses the identity of intellect and intellecta as a model to explain the
99
On Spinoza’s use of Crescas’s arguments against the first premise of Guide II, Introduction
(according to which the existence of an infinite magnitude is impossible), see M. Joel, Don Chasdai
Creskas religionsphilosophische Lehren (Breslau: Schletter’sche Buchhandlung, 1866), in particular 21–
25; Wolfson, Spinoza I, 262–95. Let me note in passing that Crescas takes “place” to be a “metaphor”
for God, most prominently in the rabbinical dictum that God “is the place of His world and the world
is not His place” (Tehillim Rabbah 90, 10; cf. Bereshit Rabbah 68, 9), “for as the dimensions of the void
permeate through those of the body and its fullness, so His glory, blessed be He, permeates through
all the parts of the world and the fullness thereof” (Or Adonai, ed. Shlomo Fischer [Jersualem, 1990],
I 2, 1, p. 69. This passage has been much discussed, see most recently: W. Z. Harvey, Physics and
Metaphysics in Hasdai Crescas [Amsterdam: J. C. Gieben, 1998], 23–30). Precisely the same rabbinical
dictum is used by the 19th century Maskil, Meir Letteris, to show that “the system of the scholar Spinoza
regarding the deity was founded on the pillars of our Sages of blessed memory, in whom there is no
deceit and guile . . . because there is an established principle for the maxim which comprises his entire
system: The all is one and the one is all.” M. Letteris, “The Biography of the Sage and Scholar Baruch
de Spinoza of Blessed Memory,” Bikkurei ha-‘ittim he-hadashim, 1845, 32 (Heb.). In light of Wolfson’s
evaluation of Spinoza’s role in the history of philosophy, it is, therefore, not devoid of irony that this
rabbinical dictum is apparently derived from no other than Philo of Alexandria, according to whom
God may be called “place” (tovpo") because “of His containing everything, and being contained by
nothing whatsoever” (De Somniis I, 62–63). On Philo’s probable influence on the rabbinical dictum,
see Ephraim E. Urbach, The Sages—Their Concepts and Beliefs, trans. Israel Abrahams (Cambridge, MA:
Harvard University Press, 1994 [3]), 73–75.
100
Descartes, Principia II, 1.
101
Descartes, Principia I, 23. About God as the “creator of all things” (rerum omnium creator), see I,
22; about the relationship of cause and effect, see I, 17. Note that also the creatio ex nihilo solution for
the problem of matter is not open to Descartes, since he accepts the principle that “nothing is made
out of nothing” (a nihilo nihil fieri) (I, 18).
102
Cf. Harvey, “Portrait,” 165–66, who reads Spinoza as addressing Maimonides’ statement that
in God “there is absolutely no potentia.” But Spinoza certainly had Descartes in mind as well. Cf. his
remark on PP I, Prop. 21, according to which Descartes’s claim that “the extended thing . . . does not
pertain to God’s nature . . . but can be created by God” must remain unintelligible to the reader, if he
does not put aside “as prejudices, all the reasons he previously had for believing that body exists” (G.
I, 179–80).
206
JOURNAL OF THE HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
44:2
APRIL
2006
unity of Deus sive Natura. The same case for structural analogy and expanded ontological scope can be made for the concept of God in the Ethics. In addition,
Spinoza speaks here of God’s essentia actuosa, using a term which not only recalls
Maimonides’ “act of the intellect,” but which he himself used in the CM to characterize a God confined to cogitatio.
Spinoza, therefore, did not have to grind new lenses in order to apprehend
Deus sive Natura clearly and distinctly. He only had to polish the lenses inherited
from the medieval Aristotelian tradition in order to perceive God’s essentia actuosa
not as thought alone but as thought and extension.
MAIMONIDES AND SPINOZA ON GOD
APPENDIX
1:
207
HOW THICK IS THE CLOUD?
OBJECTIONS AND REPLIES
It is clear that in my view the distance separating Maimonides’ God from Spinoza’s is rather
small. If we imagine a discussion between the two philosophers I would not expect metaphysics to be a very controversial issue. This claim is likely to raise objections from students
of both Maimonides and Spinoza. The “cloud” which obscured Maimonides’ apprehension of God is, according to them, considerably thicker than I have presented it. The difference between Maimonides’ nebulous doctrine and Spinoza’s clear and distinct notion of
God is not one of degree but the result of a radical transformation. For Wolfson the view
attributed to “some of the Hebrews” in the scholium to E II, Prop. 7 indicates that Spinoza
was not fully aware of his radical departure from “traditional theology. . . . Spinoza seems to
have been under the delusion that he was . . . only seeing in a truer light that which others
before him had seen, to use his own expression, ‘as if through a mist.’”103 According to M.
Gueroult that same view “est loin de coïncider avec celle de Spinoza.”104 Similarly, E. Curley
thinks that the Jewish philosophers referred to in the scholium “would have understood the
doctrine very differently from the way Spinoza does.”105
More generally, Zeev Levy finds an “essential and irreconcilable discrepancy” between
“Spinoza’s conception of God as Deus sive Natura” and “the traditional theological notion
of God who is distinct from the world created by him.” The latter notion, according to
Levy, is “endorsed by Maimonides.”106 For Y. Yovel, Spinoza became the “founder” of the
“philosophy of immanence, effecting an intellectual revolution no less momentous and
consequential than Kant’s.”107 The denial of transcendence in Yovel’s view is the “heresy”
of the “Marrano of reason” marking his rupture not only with Judaism and Christianity but
also with the “accepted philosophical tradition.”108 Even L. Roth who, as we saw, emphasizes Spinoza’s proximity to Maimonides, seems convinced that Maimonides “could never
have . . . affirmed” that “the universe as a totality is God” since for Maimonides “outside
and beyond” the “order demanded by the universal claims of the thinking mind” there
“exists an immaterial intelligence.”109
These examples should suffice to indicate that many distinguished scholars would expect a debate between Maimonides and Spinoza on metaphysics to unfold much less peacefully than I have suggested. Of course I hope that, after reading my paper, they would
change their mind. I could proceed by quoting a number of equally distinguished scholars
who would agree with me on the undramatic character of the imagined discussion. For
some of them Maimonides’ doctrine of God is even closer to Spinoza’s than I have suggested.110 Instead, let me briefly address what are in my view the two main objections that I
103
Wolfson, Spinoza, vol. 2, 347.
Gueroult, Spinoza, vol. 2, 85, note 74. Note that Gueroult again alludes to E I, Prop. 31:
“Spinoza “récuse énergiquement . . . l’identité de l’essence de Dieu et de son entendement.” On
Gueroult’s problematic use of this proposition, see below, Appendix 4.
105
Curley, Collected Works, 451, n. 11.
106
Zeev Levy, Baruch or Benedict—On Some Jewish Aspects of Spinoza’s Philosophy [Baruch or Benedict]
(New York: Peter Lang, 1989), 104.
107
Yirmiahu Yovel, Spinoza and Other Heretics [Spinoza] (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press,
1989), vol. 2, 170.
108
Ibid., vol. 1, 5.
109
See my discussion of Roth in Appendix 2.
110
For scholars who would agree with me, see, e.g., the references to Letteris, Pines, and Harvey
in the notes above. For scholars who would go even further than I, see, e.g., Schwartz, “Eckharts’ und
Maimonides’ Raumorstellung” who argues that Maimonides attributed spatiality to God. See also Lenn
E. Goodman, “What does Spinoza’s Ethics contribute to Jewish Philosophy,” Jewish Themes in Spinoza’s
Philosophy, eds. Heidi M. Ravven and Lenn E. Goodman (Albany: SUNY Press, 2002), 17–89. Goodman
writes: “Maimonides had long before tied matter and form to God by treating both as expressions of
the divine. His rejection of the Neoplatonic exclusion of matter from the power and ken of God led
directly to Spinoza’s inclusion of extension, along with thought, among God’s attributes” (27). Cf. his
“Matter and Form as Attributes of God in Maimonides’ Philosophy,” in A Straight Path: Studies in Honor
of Arthur Hyman (Washington: Catholic University of America Press, 1987), 86–97.
104
208
JOURNAL OF THE HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
44:2
APRIL
2006
expect to be raised against my thesis. One is that my account of Maimonides’ God appears
to be incompatible with God’s radical transcendence advocated in Maimonides’ negative
theology. The other is that even if we disregard the implications of Maimonides’ negative
theology, a God confined to thought and identical to the world’s form but not to its matter,
is radically different from a God who is both thought and extension.
(i) The first objection may well be valid. According to Maimonides’ uncompromising
negative theology, God is indeed absolutely transcendent.111 This, moreover, is a doctrine
which should “be inculcated in virtue of traditional authority [hlbqb]” upon the “multitude,” including “children, women, stupid ones, and those of a defective natural disposition.” Everyone is required to believe that “there is absolutely no likeness in any respect
whatever between Him and the things created by him [˜wymd ˜ya llk wyawrb ˜ybw wnyb]” and that
“everything that can be ascribed to God, may He be blessed, differs in every respect from
our attributes, so that no definition can comprise them [
]” (Guide I,
35, 68–69). Zeev Levy quotes this passage to illustrate Maimonides’ commitment to “the
traditional theological notion” of a transcendent God.112
It is certainly a legitimate question how Maimonides, on the background of such statements, could have maintained that God is the immanent cause of the world and identical
to the form of all existents. Long ago S. Pines already noted that Maimonides’ negative
theology and his “conception of God’s intellectual activity . . . appear to be contradictory,”
and that he presents the latter in a way “that brings out . . . its incompatibility with” the
former.113 It is important to recall in this context that the literary character of the Guide
may be compared to a Vexierbild, a magic picture with features that change depending on
the angle from which the observer looks at it. In a similar way the perception of the Guide’s
content is determined through the differing levels of intellectual perfection of its readers.
Among the devices Maimonides used to obtain this effect are deliberate contradictions:
In speaking about very obscure matters [
] it is necessary to conceal parts of
them and to disclose others. Sometimes necessity requires, in the case of a certain dictum, that
the discussion proceed according to a certain premise, and in another place necessity requires
that the discussion proceed according to another premise contradicting [trtws] the first. In
such cases the multitude must in no way become aware of the contradiction between them and the
author must use some device [hlwbjt] to conceal it in every respect. (Guide I, Introduction, 16)
Now, all issues relevant to our discussion appear to require this particular caution:
The discussion concerning attributes and the way they should be negated with regard to Him,
and the meaning of the attributes that may be ascribed to Him, as well as the discussion concerning His creation of that which He created, the character of His governance of the world,
and how His providence [extends] to what is other than He, and the notion of His will, His
apprehension, and His knowledge of all that He knows . . . all these are obscure matters [
], and they are truly the ‘mysteries of the Torah’ and the secrets constantly mentioned in
the books of the prophets and in the dicta of the Sages, may their memory be blessed. (Guide I,
35, 68–69)
Whereas God’s transcendence “ought to be inculcated” upon the “multitude,” including “children, women, stupid ones, and those of a defective natural disposition,” God’s
immanence is nowhere explicitly stated in the Guide, although we saw how it necessarily
follows from Maimonides’ premises. It seems, therefore, quite obvious that the doctrine of
God’s transcendence is part of Maimonides’ exoteric teaching and the doctrine of God’s
immanence part of his esoteric teaching. It may, therefore, be correct that one cannot
reach Spinoza from Maimonides’ negative theology. But the simple reason for this is that
the way leading to Spinoza’s Deus sive Natura has the doctrine of the divine intellect as its
point of departure, to which he explicitly refers in the scholium to E II, Prop. 7.
111
For Maimonides’ negative theology, see Guide I, 50–60.
Levy, Baruch or Benedict, 101–2.
113
Pines, “Sources,” xcvii. According to Pines, “Dieu,” 22, Maimonides presents “deux discours
philosophiques entre lesquels il est malaisé ou impossible de faire l’accord.”
112
MAIMONIDES AND SPINOZA ON GOD
209
Scholars insisting on the incompatibility of Maimonides’ and Spinoza’s metaphysics
have in my opinion not realized that they, so to speak, took the wrong turn at a crucial
junction of the Guide. If Spinoza’s “philosophy of immanence” is to be perceived as a “revolution” it comes as no surprise that Y. Yovel opposes him as “the most paradigmatic philosopher of immanence” to Maimonides, “the most radical philosopher of transcendence.”114
The failure to recognize that Maimonides holds two doctrines of God is also the source of
some confusion in Gueroult’s attempt to prove that Maimonides’ God must have appeared
“absurd” to Spinoza. The alleged absurdity, according to Gueroult, is the consequence of
God’s “incompréhensibilité totale” affirmed “dans la théologie negative” (277).115
For the purpose of the discussion above it is not necessary to examine in detail how
Maimonides’ two accounts of God are related to each other, or to solve the problems stemming from these two accounts. It is sufficient to see that what appears to be a contradiction
between the transcendent God of negative theology and the concept of God as the act of
self-intellection is not due to my misinterpretation of Maimonides’ doctrine, but is characteristic of the way this doctrine is presented in the Guide.
(ii) The second objection to my view is not valid. From the outset Spinoza emphasizes
that the attribution of extension to God does not imply any form of vulgar materialism.
“Nothing more absurd . . . can be said of God” than that he “is corporeal” (corporeum esse) if
“by body we understand any quantity, with length, breadth, and depth, limited by some
certain figure” (E I, Prop. 15, Schol. / G. II, 57).116 God’s extension as conceived by Spinoza
preserves God’s infinity, indivisibility, and simplicity, as well as his supreme perfection,
ruling out that he can in any form be passive. According to Spinoza, those who deny extension as an attribute of God, have simply not understood what extended substance means.
Instead of conceiving extension intellectually they were misled by their imagination:
[If] we attend to quantity as it is in the imagination [prout in imaginatione est], which we do often
and more easily, it will be found to be finite, divisible, and composed of parts; but if we attend
to it as it is in the intellect [prout in intellecto est], and conceive it insofar as it is a substance,
which happens with great difficulty, then, as we have already sufficiently demonstrated, it will
be found to be infinite, unique and indivisible. (ibid. 59)
As I have mentioned at the end of my paper, Wolfson has convincingly shown that
Spinoza’s defense of extension as an attribute of God is based on arguments which he
found in the work of Hasdai Crescas, the medieval critic of the Aristotelian tradition. These
arguments were developed as a response precisely to the objections that a medieval Aristotelian such as Maimonides would raise. If Maimonides had been convinced of the soundness of Spinoza’s argumentation I cannot see what should have prevented him from accepting it—all the more since Spinoza’s attribute of extension does not subject God to the
deficiencies of matter that originally motivated the Aristotelian doctrine of incorporeality.
On the contrary: I believe he would have welcomed Spinoza’s concept of God as a solution
for the inconsistency in his ontology to which the doctrine of incorporeality had led. To be
sure, Maimonides’ God is not Spinoza’s Deus sive Natura. But the transition from a God into
whose intellectual essence the form of all existents is inscribed to a God whose active essence comprises both thought and extension is the result of the solution of a problem, not
of a radical transformation.
114
Yovel, Spinoza, vol. 1, 136.
Compare my discussion of Gueroult’s view below, Appendix 4.
116
Cf. letter 73, where Spinoza describes as “quite mistaken” the “view of certain people that the
Tractatus Theologico-Politicus rests on the identification of God with Nature” as long as “by the latter they
understand a kind of mass or corporeal matter” (per quam massam quandam, sive, sive materiam corpoream
intelligent) (G. IV, 307).
115
210
JOURNAL OF THE HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
APPENDIX
2:
44:2
APRIL
2006
L. ROTH AND S. PINES ON
MAIMONIDES’AND SPINOZA’S DOCTRINES OF GOD
Among the attempts to explain the relationship between Maimonides’ God and Spinoza’s
Deus sive Natura, the two most important were in my view Leon Roth’s and Shlomo Pines’s.
In this appendix I will briefly discuss their arguments, and point out the issues on which I
disagree with them.
(i) In 1924 Roth published his influential book, Spinoza, Descartes, and Maimonides. For
his thesis that “the monism of Spinoza is a direct derivative of the characteristic form which
the monotheistic idea . . . had assumed in the mind of Maimonides” (145), Maimonides’
claim concerning the unity of both God and nature (see my discussion of Guide I, 72 above
where Maimonides states that “the One has created one”) plays a particularly important
role. The proximity between the doctrines of the two philosophers, according to Roth, is
based on two related properties of Maimonides’ monotheism: (i) God’s unity is the condition for the unity and intelligibility of the order of nature (“The pursuit of knowledge
presupposes a real unity in Nature; and the unity of Nature springs out of the unity of
God,” 84); and (ii) The apprehension of the order of nature is the only way to the apprehension of God (“[I]t is only by knowing and through the knowledge of the facts of the
physical universe that we can claim to know anything of God,” 92). For Spinoza too, according to Roth, the intelligibility of the order of nature has as its condition the unity of
God (“The two orders of the logic, therefore, the order of ideas and the order of things,
are two expressions of one and the same unity, which is Deus sive Natura,” 57). Moreover,
Spinoza shares with Maimonides “the conception of the universe as a totality through which
alone it is possible to know God” (105). Summing up his thesis, Roth writes:
It is from the one Nature that we learn the one God; and the one God can only be interpreted
in and through the one Nature. It was this fundamental metaphysical idea which Spinoza used
with such consistency and such effect against the whole movement of the Cartesian logic, and
it was the same fundamental metaphysical idea which was the mainspring of Maimonides’ attack on the Kalam. (105 ff.)
In principle, I think, Roth’s thesis is pointing in the right direction. Upon closer examination, however, the argument he provides to support it lacks plausibility. He recognizes
that the reciprocal dependence of unity and intelligibility of God and nature in Spinoza is
based on their identity. For Maimonides, on the other hand, God, according to Roth, remains transcendent in relation to the natural order: “That the universe as a totality is God
could never have been affirmed by Maimonides” (105). This difference, however, does not
seem crucial to Roth:
Whether the order demanded by the universal claims of the thinking mind be equated with
God, as in the developed philosophy of Spinoza; or whether outside and beyond this order
there exists an immaterial intelligence, as argued by Maimonides . . . is . . . from the point of
view of logic of no practical relevance. The issue between ‘immanence’ and ‘transcendence’ is
therefore only apparent. . . . It is not at all clear that Spinoza . . . effected a complete fusion
between ‘natura naturans’ and ‘natura naturata.’ (105 with note 2)
Roth, therefore, apparently did not see that Maimonides does equate “the order demanded by the universal claims of the thinking mind” with God, which in my opinion is
the key to understanding the relationship of his God to Spinoza’s. Instead of working out
the monistic implications of Maimonides’ position, Roth suggests that Spinoza may after all
have been a dualist. His contention that “the issue between ‘immanence’ and ‘transcendence’ is therefore only apparent” seems to me clearly mistaken. God’s immanence is of
fundamental importance for the whole of Spinoza’s philosophical project.
With regard to the doctrine of God of his opponents, Spinoza expresses his hope that
they will “completely reject” it once they find out that it is “a great obstacle to science”
(magnum scientiae obstaculum) (E I, Prop. 33, Schol. 2 / G. II, 75). His own doctrine of God
certainly is conceived with the goal of liberating science from this magnum obstaculum, constituted by a transcendent God beyond human grasp. Such a God destroys the unity of
MAIMONIDES AND SPINOZA ON GOD
211
nature and thereby renders impossible a unified scientific account of nature. Both consequences clearly contradict Spinoza’s concept of nature and natural laws:
[N]ature is always the same [est namque natura semper eadem], and its virtue and power
of acting are everywhere the same. So the way of understanding the nature of anything, of whatever kind, must be the same, i.e., through the universal laws and rules
of nature [per leges, & regulas naturae universales]. (E III, Pref. / G. II, 138)
(ii) According to Pines, the implications of Maimonides’ concept of God in Guide I, 68
allow us to infer that his God is “something coming perilously close to Spinoza’s attribute
of thought (or to his ‘Intellect of God’).” Pines’s intuition, I think, is in principle correct.
As I have tried to show in this paper, Maimonides’ God as subject of intellection corresponds to Spinoza’s God conceived under the attribute of thought, and Maimonides’ God
as object of intellection corresponds to Spinoza’s infinite intellect of God. The argument,
however, that Pines adduces for his suggestion seems to me mistaken. In his view Maimonides
in I, 68 links Aristotle’s account of God as novhsi" nohvsew" novhsi" in Metaphysics XII 9 and the
account of the intellection of nou'" in De anima III, 4 and 5, according to which the intellect
and the object of intellection are identical. Maimonides’ interpretation of God’s knowledge, according to Pines, introduces a significant modification into the Aristotelian concept of divine intellect:
In Aristotle’s Metaphysics this conception [of God as novhsi" nohvsew" novhsi"] ties up with the idea
that God only cognizes Himself, because all other things are unworthy of being known by Him.
If, in accordance with a probable intention of Aristotle, the last statement is interpreted as
excluding God’s cognition of the ideas or the universals, the content of God’s cognition would
be most strictly circumscribed. . . . Though Maimonides does not explicitly say so, it follows
from the analogy he draws between God’s and man’s intellectual activity that God’s knowledge
is not only confined to his own essence, if the latter is conceived as not including the forms that
are also the objects of human science. However, if He does cognize the system of forms (and we
may add, using a later term, of natural laws) subsisting in the universe, He must be held (in
virtue of the Aristotelian thesis stressed by Maimonides) to be identical with these forms and
laws, i.e., with the scientific system of the universe. This would make Him out to be something
coming perilously close to Spinoza’s attribute of thought (or to his ‘Intellect of God’).117
In Maimonides the identity of the divine intellect with “the scientific system of forms
subsisting in the universe” thus follows for Pines from two things: (i) from the analogy
between human and divine intellection, which shows that Maimonides conceived (probably in contrast to Aristotle) the divine intellect as apprehending not only himself but also
the universe’s formal structure, and (ii) from the Aristotelian thesis in the De anima concerning the identity of subject and object of intellection. Pines’s account, I think, is unconvincing because the analogy between the apprehension of the human and the divine intellect does not yield the conclusion that he suggests. In order to illustrate the formula novhsi"
nohvsew" novhsi" Aristotle likewise uses the identity of the “object and of the subject of intellection” in the human intellect, which is found in both the “producing sciences,” and the
“theoretical sciences” (Metaphysics XII 9, 1075a 1–5). In my opinion neither in Aristotle
nor in Maimonides does the analogy between human and divine intellect support the conclusion that God apprehends the formal structure of the universe and is identical to it.
There is, on the other hand, ample textual support for my suggestion that God’s knowledge of things other than himself follows for Maimonides from his apprehension of himself as their cause (see my discussion in the body of the paper).
117
Pines, “Sources,” xcvii–xcviii.
212
JOURNAL OF THE HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
APPENDIX
3:
44:2
APRIL
2006
T H E P L A C E O F T H E C O G I TATA
METAPHYSICA IN SPINOZA’S WORK
K. Fischer’s thesis that Spinoza presents in the CM essentially his own views with the purpose of clarifying how they differ from the views of Descartes, has been discussed in detail,
and, at first view, justly rejected by Freudenthal in the article quoted above.118 It seems to
me, however, that the last word has not yet been spoken in this debate and I will come back
to Fischer’s thesis at the end of this Appendix. Freudenthal showed in particular that one
cannot simply attribute the doctrines of the CM to Spinoza, and oppose them to the doctrines of PP as those of Descartes. Both works were dictated to Caesarius, Spinoza’s student,
“to whom he was teaching the Cartesian philosophy.”119 As Freudenthal shows, the CM
antedate the PP, and the references to the PP in them can be explained through the fact
that Spinoza “corrected and added to them” as Meyer informs us in the preface. Thus,
Spinoza could not have written the CM with the goal to set his own views apart from those
exposed in the PP.120
But even assuming that Fischer’s thesis is mistaken, the question concerning the place
of the CM in Spinoza’s work has not been satisfactorily settled. Meyer writes in the preface
that in the CM Spinoza deals “with some of the principal and more difficult questions
which are disputed in Metaphysics, and had not yet been resolved by Descartes” (G. I,
130). Later he claims that not only in the PP, “but also in the Metaphysical Thoughts our
Author has only set out the opinions of Descartes and their demonstrations, insofar as
these are found in his writings, or are such as ought to be deduced validly from the foundations he laid.
For since he had promised to teach his pupil Descartes’ philosophy, he considered himself
obliged [religio ipsi fuit] not to depart a hair’s breadth [latum unguem] from Descartes’ opinion,
nor to dictate to him anything that either would not correspond to his doctrines or would be
contrary to them. So let no one think that he is teaching here either his own opinions or only
those which he approves of. Though he judges that some of the doctrines are true, and admits
that he has added some of his own [quaedam de suis addita], nevertheless there are many that he
rejects as false, and concerning which he holds a very different opinion. (G. I, 131–32)
Apart from being inconsistent (Spinoza did not “depart a hair’s breadth from Descartes’s
opinion,” and at the same time “added some of his own” doctrines), it is not clear whether
all of what Meyer says in this passage applies equally to the PP and the CM.
As far as I can see, scholars agree that the CM are not merely a discussion of metaphysical issues in a Cartesian spirit.121 In a recent discussion of the doctrines of the CM, C.
Huenemann characterized them as “a philosophy a young Spinoza might have espoused
after rejecting the religion in which he was raised and before reaching his final views.”122
While I agree with the characterization of the CM as a “philosophy a young Spinoza might
have espoused,” I do not think that the rejection of his religion was in any form a necessary
condition to do so. The PP, with the CM as appendix, were published in 1663. Spinoza,
therefore, apparently wrote the KV before the CM.123 From this we can infer that he was
certainly not committed to all of the positions presented in the CM, since with regard to a
number of doctrinal differences between the two works, the KV presents Spinoza’s doctrines that later recur in the Ethics (e.g., the attribution of extension to God). Why, then,
did he bother to write and publish the CM at all? As an exercise in metaphysical problems,
which he had already solved differently for himself, the treatise seems a little odd.
118
Kuno Fischer, Geschichte der Neueren Philosophie [Geschichte] (Heidelberg: Carl Winter’s
Universitätsbuchhandlung, 1898 [4th rev. ed.]), I, 2, p. 291 ff.; for Freudenthal, see note 81.
119
L. Meyer, “Preface” to PP (G. I, 130).
120
See also Curley’s “Editorial Preface” to PP and CM in Collected Works, 221–24.
121
See Freudenthal, “Scholastik,” 102; Curley, Collected Works, 221–22.
122
Charles Huenemann, “The Middle Spinoza,” in Metaphysical Themes, eds. Koistinen and Biro, 210.
123
See above, note 87.
MAIMONIDES AND SPINOZA ON GOD
213
The solution to this puzzle in my view is to be sought in the different purpose and
audience of the KV and the CM. The KV is an esoteric work, written for a circle of friends
and not intended for publication: “And as you are also aware of the character of the age in
which we live, I would ask you urgently to be very careful about communicating these
things to others.” (G. I, 112). The CM, on the other hand, was intended for publication
and composed originally for Spinoza’s student Caesarius, whom he characterizes as follows:
No one is more troublesome to me, and there is no one with whom I have to be more cautious
[cavere curavi]. So I should like to warn you and all your friends not to communicate my views to
him until he has reached greater maturity. He is still too childish and unstable, striving more
for novelty than for truth. But I hope that in a few years he will correct these childish vices.
Indeed, as far as I can judge from his innate ability [ingenio], I am almost certain that he will. So
his talents induce me to like him. (Ep. 9 / G. IV, 42)
The CM thus were written for a student from whom Spinoza feels he must conceal his
true views because he judges him immature, but concerning whom he at the same time is
confident that he will develop the required intellectual maturity to deal with them in the
future. Spinoza, therefore, may have designed the CM as a kind of bridge, a work leading
the intelligent student from more or less familiar and traditionally phrased doctrines to
Spinozistic solutions to the problems under discussion.
That the content of the CM in part reflects strategic considerations is confirmed by
Spinoza’s correspondence. In a letter to Oldenburg he points out that one purpose of
publishing the PP and the CM was to pave the way for making his own writings “available to
the public without risk of trouble” (Ep. 13 / G. IV, 64). The letters written to Meyer, while
Meyer was preparing the publication of the two treatises, reveal Spinoza’s concern to avoid
anything that could be perceived as offensive. His aim is “to make this little work welcome
to all” (ut hoc opusculum omnibus gratum sit) and to invite “men in a benevolent spirit to take
up the study of the true philosophy” (Ep. 15 / G. IV, 73; cf. Ep. 12). It is clear in any case
that Spinoza in the CM frequently speaks ad captum vulgi, alluding to and at the same time
concealing his true opinions.124 See, for example, his remarks about “Sacred Scripture”
(CM II, 8), God’s “extraordinary power” to perform miracles (II, 9) and “human freedom”
(II, 11).
It is interesting to note in this context that one of Freudenthal’s criticisms of Fischer’s
thesis about the Spinozistic character of the CM is that the latter based his conclusions not
on what Spinoza openly states, but on the consequences that can be derived from his
words.125 If my suggestion with regard to the purpose of the CM is correct, Fischer would
have followed Spinoza’s indications in precisely the way intended by the author. Finally, let
me note that Fischer did not accept Freudenthal’s critique and responded to it in a long
note to the revised edition of his book.126 There is no doubt in my view that Fischer, both in
his original account and in his response to Freudenthal, exaggerated the Spinozistic character of the CM. He claims that the Deus sive Natura doctrine is already present in the CM,
God being conceived as the “eternal and necessary unity” of “thought and extension,”127 or
that the statement that Scripture teaches the same truth as reason foreshadows Spinoza’s
arguments in the TTP.128 As far as I can see, neither is the case. Fischer in part seems to
have misunderstood Spinoza. Concerning a number of other issues, however, Fischer’s
suggestions seem to me essentially correct. I also see no reason to reject his assumption
that Spinoza expected “the attentive and penetrating reader” (der aufmerksame und
eindringende Leser), who had learned “to count until three” (bis drei zu zählen), to be capable
of discerning his opinions even when they had not been explicitly stated.129
124
For this “rule of living,” see the Tractactus de Intellectus Emendatione (G. II, 9).
Freudenthal, “Scholastik,” 99.
126
Fischer, Geschichte, n. 1, 306–10.
127
Ibid., 302 and 309, para. 11 of the note.
128
Ibid., 304 and 308, para. 9 of the note.
129
Ibid., 307–8.
125
214
JOURNAL OF THE HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY
APPENDIX
4:
44:2
T H E P R O B L E M O F E I, P R O P .
APRIL
2006
31
The structural analogy that I suggested exists between Maimonides’ divine intellect and
Spinoza’s God as res cogitans in my view does not contradict E I, Prop. 31, according to
which “the actual intellect, whether finite or infinite, like will, desire, love etc. must be
referred to natura naturata” (G. II, 71). To start with, the distinction that Spinoza makes in
the demonstration between “absolute thinking” and “intellect” as a “certain mode of thinking” is far from clear. It seems to rely on the assumption that intellect, will, desire and love
are different modes of thinking. But elsewhere affects such as desire and love are described
as ideas and thus should be part of the content of the infinite intellect which comprises the
totality of ideas. Gueroult has already clearly stated this problem.130 The solution he suggests depends on a passage in the CM and in my opinion is not convincing, but I cannot
examine his argument here in detail. Let me only note that Gueroult’s defense of the
validity of the demonstration seems at least in part to be motivated by the fact that Prop. 31
is crucial for his claim that Spinoza’s God as res cogitans is fundamentally different from a
God conceived as what he describes as “entendement créateur.” I will discuss this point
further below.
Moreover, Spinoza’s attribution of intellect, will, desire and love to natura naturata must
in my view be seen in the context of his rejection of the doctrine of God’s freedom, expressed as absolute will and as purposeful activity which he subjects to an elaborate critique in E I, Prop. 17, Schol., E I, Prop. 33, Schol. 2, and E I, Appendix. But this doctrine
does not correspond to the medieval Aristotelian concept of God as it was adopted by
Maimonides. On the contrary, Maimonides illustrates what he takes to be the Aristotelian
notion of causal necessity through “the necessary derivation of an intellectum from an intellect [lkçhm lkçwmh bwyj], for the intellect is the agent [l[wp] of the intellectum in respect of its
being intellectum” (Guide II, 20, 273). Note that Maimonides contrasts this notion of causal
necessity with the notion of will and purpose, whereby “purpose” (hnwwk) refers “to a nonexisting thing the existence of which is possible in the way it was purposed . . . and which
can also not exist in this way” (ibid).
There are good reasons to assume that Maimonides agreed with Aristotle on the issue
of causal necessity versus purpose and will with regard to the nature of God’s activity.131 The
doctrine of God acting according to purpose and will thus corresponds to the doctrine
criticized by Spinoza. This doctrine, I suggest, and the notion of divine omnipotence that
it presupposes (a mistaken notion in Spinoza’s opinion), form the background to E I,
Prop. 31. In the TTP, moreover, Spinoza considered a God who is pure intellectual activity
and in whom intellect and will are identical, as sufficient for establishing the causal necessity by which God determines the laws of nature. Since the TTP is not a strictly philosophical treatise Spinoza saw no need to go beyond the God of the Aristotelian tradition in
order to reject a God who miraculously intervenes in the natural order. He explains the
proposition “that nothing can occur against nature, but nature preserves an eternal fixed
and immutable order” as follows:
[A]ll that God wills or determines involves eternal necessity and truth; for we have demonstrated from the fact that God’s intellect is not distinguished from God’s will [Dei intellectus a Dei
voluntate non distinguitur], that we affirm the same thing when we say that God wills something
as when we say that God understands that thing. By the same necessity, therefore, by which it
follows from the divine nature and perfection that God understands some thing as it is, it
follows that God wills that thing as it is. But since nothing is necessarily true except by the
divine decree alone, it most clearly follows that the universal laws of nature are merely God’s
decrees, which follow from the necessity and perfection of the divine nature. If anything would
occur in nature that contradicted nature’s universal laws, it would also necessarily contradict
the decree, intellect and nature of God. (TTP VI, G. III, 82–83)132
130
Gueroult, Spinoza, vol. 1, 359–60.
Cf. W. Z. Harvey, “A Third Approach to Maimonides’ Cosmogony-Prophetology Puzzle,” Harvard
Theological Review 74 (1981), 298.
132
For the identity of God’s intellect and will, see for example TTP IV, G. III, 62.
131
MAIMONIDES AND SPINOZA ON GOD
215
For M. Gueroult on the other hand, E I, Prop. 31 becomes the chief evidence for what
he takes to be a fundamental difference between Spinoza’s doctrine of God as res cogitans
and the doctrine “de l’entendement créateur,” which he attributes, among others, to
Maimonides. See, e.g., his discussion of E I, Prop. 17, Schol. in: Spinoza, vol. 1, 272–86 and
of E I, Prop. 30–33, in ibid., 353–74. In light of the fact that he himself drew attention to
the weakness of this proposition’s demonstration (see above) this is somewhat surprising.
Although I cannot discuss his argument in detail here, I would like to point out two
problems. One is that Gueroult’s account of Maimonides’ position is distorted because he
failed to distinguish between Maimonides’ negative theology and Maimonides’ doctrine of
God as intellectual activity (on this issue, see Appendix 1). The other is that his insistence
on what he believes to be the difference between Maimonides and Spinoza forces him to
ascribe to Spinoza the (in my view absurd) thesis that God forms an idea of himself with
which he has nothing in common. God as res cogitans “produit nécessairement l’intelligence
infinie, c’est à dire l idée de Dieu . . . ce par quoi Dieu se connaît.” But since God is the
cause of the infinite intellect or idea of himself, the latter has “rien de commun” with God.
Thus, according to Gueroult, “Dieu et son entendement” are incommensurable (Spinoza,
vol. 1, 279). Since for Spinoza a “true idea must agree [convenire] with its object” (E I, Ax.
6 [G. II, 47]), God would have conceived a false idea of himself.
As a tentative conclusion I would suggest that E I, Prop. 31 is part of Spinoza’s argument against a doctrine of divine freedom, will, and omnipotence which is not related to
Maimonides’ doctrine of the divine intellect as I have presented it in this paper. This proposition, therefore, should not prevent us from recognizing the structure of the divine intellect in Spinoza’s account of God as res cogitans. Spinoza’s infinite intellect on the other
hand, insofar as it is the idea of God’s essence and of all things necessarily following from
God’s essence, does not correspond to Maimonides’ divine intellect as a whole but only to
its object of intellection.133
133
I wish to thank Stephen Menn for his particularly careful reading of and detailed comments
on an earlier draft of this paper. I also wish to thank Gad Freudenthal and Martin Ritter for helpful
comments. I am grateful for their feedback to the participants and the audience of the panel “Spinoza’s
Medieval Sources” at the AJS Conference in 2001, as well as Wilhelm Schmidt-Biggemann and the
participants of his colloquium at the Philosophisches Institut, FU Berlin where I presented earlier
versions of the paper. Finally, I derived some benefit from the comments of the paper’s two anonymous referees.