Book in The Islamic World

The Book in the Islamic World
The Written Word and Communication

in the Middle East
edited by
George N. Atiyeh
State University of New York Press
The Library of Congress
Published by
State University of New York Press, Albany
1995 State University of New York
All rights reserved
Printed in the United States of America
No part of this book may be used or reproduced
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
The book in the Islamic world : the written word and communication in
the Middle East I edited by George N. Atiyeh.
p. em.
Consists of papers presented at a conference held November 8-9,
1989 at the Library of Congress, Washington, D.C.
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 0-7914-2473-1 (alk. paper). -ISBN 0-7914-2474-X (pbk.
alk. paper).
1. Books-Middle East-History-Congresses. 2. Middle East-
Intellectual life-Congresses. 3. Manuscripts, Islamic-History-
Congresses. 4. Printing-Middle East-History-Congresses.
I. Atiyeh, George N. (George Nicholas), 1923-
Z8.M63B66 1995
002' 0 0956-dc20 94-29487
CIP
1098765432
Contents
Figures
Introduction
George N. Atiyeh
1. From the Manuscript Age to the Age of Printed Books
Muhsin Mahdi
2. The Koranic Text: From Revelation to Compilation
Jacques Berque
3. "Of Making Many Books There Is No End": The Classical
Muslim View
Franz Rosenthal
4. Oral Transmission and the Book in Islamic Education
Seyyed Hossein Nasr
5. The Book of Life-Metaphors Connected with the Book in
Islamic Literatures
Annemarie Schimmel
6. Biographical Dictionaries: Inner Structure and Cultural
Significance
Wadad al-Qa<;Ii
7. The Book in the Grammatical Tradition: Development in Content
and Methods
Rarnzi Baalbaki
8. Women's Roles in the Art of Arabic Calligraphy
Salah al-Din al-Munajjid
9. Some Illustrations in Islamic Scientific Manuscripts
and Their Secrets
David A. King
vii
xiii
1
17
33
57
71
93
123
141
149
v
vi The Book in the Islamic World
10. A Royal Manuscript and Its Transformation: The Life History
of a Book 179
Priscilla P. Soucek and Filiz <,::agman
11. Faris Al-Shidyiiq and the Transition from Scribal to
Print Culture in the Middle East
Geoffrey Roper
12. The Book in the Modern Arab World: The Cases of
209
Lebanon and Egypt 233
George N. Atiyeh
13. Mass Higher Education and the Religious Imagination in
Contemporary Arab Societies 255
Dale F. Eickelman
14. The Book in the Islamic World: A Selective Bibliography 273
Michael W. Albin
Appendix: Ottoman Imperial Documents Relating to the History of
Books and Printing 283
Notes on Contributors 293
Index 297
Figures
1.1 A Koran printed in Hamburg, Germany in 1694 by Officina
Schu1tzio-Schilleriana.
1.2 The "Opening" of the first Koran printed in Europe (Venice, ca. 1537)
by AJessandro Paganino.
1.3 Title page of Medici edition (Rome, 1593).
2.1 Sample pages of the Bach Mamh1k }:lajj Zuhayr Koran.
2.2 Sample pages of the Bach Mamh1k }:lajj Zuhayr Koran.
9.1 Numerous mechanical devices are illustrated and described in this
eleventh-century Andalusian treatise, discovered less than 20 years ago.
9.2 A geometrical diagram accompanying the solution of a problem in
spherical astronomy.
9.3 An illustration of a non-Ptolemaic planetary model from a treatise
of the thirteenth-century Maragha school.
9.4 The astronomers of the Istanbul Observatory with some of their
instruments. This miniature is a veritable gold-mine of information
which has yet to be fully exploited.
9.5 Non-standard astrolabes illustrated in the treatise on astronomical
instruments by al-Marrakush1 (Cairo, ca. 1280). The text is based on
al-B1Iiin1 (Central Asia, ca. 1025), who abridged the discussion of
them by al-Sijz1 (E. Iran, ca. 1000).
9.6 The back of the astrolabe of the Yemeni Sultan al-Ashraf, dated
690/1291. This is the only known Islamic astrolabe on which the back
is demted to astrological information and also one of the few on which
the sun, moon, and five planets are indicated by their symbols. The
very same pecularities are featured in an illustration found in al-
Ashrafs treatise on astrolabe construction-see figure 9.7.
9.7 One of numerous illustrations in al-Ashrafs treatise on astrolabe
construction. If any proof were needed that the New York astrolabe
was indeed due to al-Ashraf ... but none is. The treatise also deals
with sundial construction (no medieval sundials are known from the
Yemen) and contains the earliest known description of a magnetic
compass in any astronomical text.
9.8 The universal astrolabe of Ibn al-Sarraj (Aleppo, 1328.29), the most
sophisticated astrolabe ever made.
9.9 An illustration of the rete of a universal astrolabe in Ibn al-Sarraj's
treatise on astronomical instruments.
vii
viii The Book in the Islamic UVrld
9.10 On the left, the Ka'bah is depicted-appropriately inclined to the
meridian-on a crude cartographic grid from which one can determine
the qiblah very approximately by joining one's city to the Ka'bah (here
Bursa is shown connected to the Ka'bah [via Medina]). On the right
is a diagram of sacred geography, showing various areas around the
Ka'bah and indicating the astronomical horizon phenomena which
defme their qiblahs.
9.11 A qib/ah-indicator from Isfuhan, ca. 1710, unique of its genre. The
qiblahs and distances from Mecca of 150 localities marked on the
cartographic grid-which can be read from the circumferential scale
when the diametral rule, centered at Mecca, is laid on the marker for
the locality in question-are given accurately for all practical purposes.
9.12 An scheme of sacred geography from a manuscript of
al-Qazwinfs Athiir al-biliul (Iraq and Syria, ca. 1250). The information
on the qiblah in each sector has been suppressed. Also one of the
sectors in the original scheme has been omitted by mistake.
9.13 An eight-division scheme of sacred geography from a manuscript of
the treatise on cosmogrphy by Pseudo-Ibn an-Wardi (Aleppo, ca. 1420).
There are several different traditions of sacred geography in the
numerous manuscripts of his treatise; the illustration in the published
text shows two of these but are hopelessly corrupt.
9.14 Two different twelve-sector schemes of sacred geography with
associated astronomical horizon phenomena for finding the qiblah,
as round in a manuscript of a thirteenth-century Yemeni treatise on
folk astronomy.
9.15 An Ottoman scheme of sacred geography with 72 divisions of the world
around the Ka'bah, suitable for marking on a horizontal qiblah-
indicator-see figure 9.17.
9.16 An Ottoman sundial cum qib/ah-indicator on which a scheme of sacred
geography has been included on the circular base.
9.17 The imposing ventilator on the Musafirkhane in Cairo, one of the few
surviving examples. In medieval times, most buildings in Cairo were
fitted with such ventilators, all astronomically oriented.
9.18 A diagram showing the orientation of ventilators in medieval Cairo,
found in the treatise on astronomical instruments of Ibn al-Sarraj
(Aleppo, ca. 1325).
9.19 The different qiblahs accepted in medieval Cairo. In the case of the
southerly qiblahs, any direction between the rising and setting of
Canopus would have been considered acceptable.
9.20 On the left is a ground-plan of the Ka'bah (the rectangular shape is
here exaggerated) and on the right a diagram which associated the
edifice-incorrectly oriented-with the cardinal directions and their
intermediaries,the winds, and the qiblahs of various localities.
Figures IX
9.21 The basic orientation of the Ka'bah and the directions of the four
"cardinal" winds as recorded in various medieval texts. Actually, the
minor axis is aligned with the most southerly setting point of the moon.
9.22 The basic information on the Ka'bah contained in figure 9.20 (r.h.s.).
The orientation of the Ka'bah has been "corrected"-in fact (see figure
9.10 (l.h.s.) and figure 9.21), its major axis is at about 30 E. of S.
9.23 A diagram showing 28 traditional divisions of the world, from a
manuscript of the geographical treatise of Abu al-Fida' (Hama, ca.
1320) which never made it into the published text.
10.1 Topkapi Sarayi Miizesi, Hazine 1510, fol. 775b, Colophon of Ni:?iiml
Khamsah.
10.2 Topkapi Sarayi Miizesi, Hazine 1510, fol. 484b, Colophon of Firdawsf
Shah-niimah.
10.3 Thrk ve Islam Eserleri Miizesi, T. 1950 fol. 464b, Colophon of
Khusraw Dihlavi, 'Ainah-i Jskandari.
10.4 Topkapi Sarayi Miesi, Hazine 1510, fol. 1510, fol. 7a, "Colophon
Signed by Warqah ibn 'Urnar Samarqandi".
10.5 Topkapi Sarayi Miizesi, Hazine 1510, fol. 498a, "Firman in the Name
of l:lusayn Bayqarii".
10.6 Topkapi Sarayi Miizesi, Hazine 1510, fol. la, Dedication medallion
in the name of l:lusayn Bayqarii.
10.7 Topkapi Sarayi Miizesi, Hazine 1510, fol. 499a, Dedication medallion
in the name of Shiih Rukh.
10.8 Topkapi Sarayi Miizesi, Hazine 1510, fol. 682b, "In Praise of Spring."
10.9 Topkapi Sarayi Miizesi, Hazine 1510, fol. 13b, "I;>al:I\liik Enthroned."
10.10 Topkapi Sarayi Miizesi, Hazine 1510, fol. 502b, "In Praise of His
Patron: A Prince Enthroned."
11.1 The back page of al-Shidyaq's newspaper, al-Jawii'ib, no. 1017,
Istanbul, 19 Rama4iin 1298/25 August 1880. The right-hand column
gives a price list of al-Jawa'ib Press books available from the news-
paper offices, starting with al-Shidyaq's own \\Orks, including the
original Paris edition of his al-Siiq 'ata al-siiq-"of alien appearance"
('aLa shakl gharib). On the left are other Arabic and Thrkish books
which can be supplied, including some from "Syrian," that is,
Lebanese, presses, followed by a list of those available from the
Egyptian agent of al-Jawii'ib.
11.2 Two pages from al-Shidyaq's al-Laftfft kull ma'nii tarif, Malta, 1839,
showing his use of punctuation marks: dash, comma, question mark,
and colon. The typeface, which has been admired for its beauty, was
specially cut and cast in Malta, almost certainly to his designs. The
only incongruous feature is the use of Western numerals for the page
signature.
x The Book in the Islamic World
11.3 A-B (together). Autographed manuscript, dated 1850, of an appendix
on qalb and ibdill in an early draft of al-Shidyiiq's Kitiib al-Jiisus 'ala
al-qiimus. The text differs from his later published work on the subject
(Sirr al-layiil ft al-qalb wa-al-ibdiil, Istanbul, 1284/1868).
13.1 Statistics on secondary education in Egypt, Morocco, and Oman.
Abbreviations
ALEC SO
BRISMES
CMS
ENAL
GEBO
IBLA
MELA
IRCICA
Sl
TKD
=
=
Arab League Educational Cultural Scientific Organization
British Society for Middle Eastern Studies
Chruch Missionary Society
Enterprise Nationale du Livre (Algeria)
General Egyptian Book Organization
lnstitut des Belles Lettres Arabes (Thnis)
Middle East Librarians Association
Research Centre fur Islamic History Art and Culture
(Istanbul)
Studia lslamica
Tiirk Kiitiiphaneci Derengi
xi
Encouraging the study of books in society is one of the purposes of the Center
for the Book in the library of Congress, Wlich exists ''to heighten public interest
in the role of books and printing in the diffusion of knowledge.'' Drawing on
the rich resources of the Library of Congress, the conference on which this
volume is based brought scholars, librarians, diplomats, and other public
officials together to examine the Islamic book and its influence. An exhibition
of Islamic books and printed materials prepared by the library's Interpretive
Programs Office enhanced conference discussions and informed the general
public about the role of the book in Islamic civilization. The conference and
exhibition demonstrated the special significance of the library of Congress as
a center for the study of the history of the book and the printed word.
The Center for the Book in the library of Congress was established by
law in 1977 to stimulate public interest in books, reading, and libraries and
to encourage the study of books. Its projects and publications are supported
primarily by contributions from individuals, corporations, and foundations. The
Near East Section and the Center for the Book are pleased to present this volume
as a contribution to the study of the history of the book.
xii
John Y. Cole
Director
The Center for the Book in the
library of Congress
Introduction
A book is obviously not simply a physical thing. It is a living entity. People's
lives are definitely influenced by this old and basic vehicle of communication.
Our planet's civilizations and cultures, one may safely state, did not begin to
flourish and expand until the book was invented. Books have become so general
and extensive that we need not emphasize what is manifestly plain.
In the West, the study of the book as a vehicle of culture has been common
and fruitful, but is not so in the world of Islam. There, the book, so much
esteemed and cherished, has not been the subject of many serious studies as
an entity and as a vehicle of cultural development. Aware of the need for further
studies on the subject, the Library of Congress, which holds one of the largest
collections in the world of books and other materials from the Islamic countries,
convened an international conference on 8-9 November 1990, and mounted
an exhibit in order to discuss and display the role of the book in the development
of civilization in the Islamic world. It thus provided an opportunity for a number
of distinguished scholars to examine and reflect upon this very important aspect
of Islamic civilization, and it is hoped that this would open the doors for further
studies. All the papers in this volume, except for my own, were read and
discussed, and sometimes debated, by the scholars who wrote them and the
scholarly public who attended the conference.
The study of "the book" as an entity is complex and multifaceted. Any
such study embraces the origins, production, content, use, and role of books
in culture, education, and society in general. The production of books involves
materials, formats, script, typography, and illustration, among other things.
As an instrument of communication, the book in its many forms has been and
still is the greatest factor in the growth, development, and preservation of culture,
inasmuch as it carries the knowledge, the ideas, and the messages without which
an advanced culture cannot exist. Whether in the form of clay tablet, scroll,
codex, or volume, the book remains central to culture. In the oords of Dr.
Guy Story Brown, Director of the Bureau of Educational and Cultural Affairs
at the United States Information Agency, "the idea of culture itself originally
emerged in connection with cultivation of learning through the written word ....
The idea of the book or centrality of writing as a universal human inheritance
in a sense involves a fundamental change in the idea of culture, a change that
itself is characteristic of modernity, and underlies the ubiquity of books."
Although the development of the book, from its rudimentary form into
the codex, and later the book manuscript, owes much to Christian scholarship
xiii
xiv The Book in the Islamic World
in the Roman and Byzantine periods, the book in the Islamic world was more
fundamentally integrated with Islam as a religion and with the Arabic language
and script, which were the early means of communication in the Islamic world.
Scarcely has the literary life of any other culture played such a role as in Islam.
The Koran, referred to as the Book or al-Kitiib, has a privileged place in Islam
in that it is considered to be the 'M>rd of God and in that it is inimitable
(mu'jizah). It was only natural that The Book affect greatly the course of Arabic
and Islamic culture. Under its stimulus, the various sciences ('ulum, plural
of 'i/m) developed. Science, or learning ('i/m), by which is meant the whole
world of the intellect, engaged the interest of the Muslims more than anything
else except perhaps politics during the golden age of Islam, that is, the early
part of the Abbasid period. It was a period that saw the elaboration of methods
of publication, transcription, bookbinding, and book selling to a great degree.
The circulation of books was greatly assisted by the introduction of paper in
the eighth century. Literature and the art of the book received a great impetus
from the manufacture of paper. The Muslims developed paper manufacturing
through the employment of new materials and the discovery of new methods.
This was as much a revolution as the one achieved in the fifteenth century by
Gutenberg. As Professor Irfan Shahid says, "Neither parchment nor papyrus
was able to bring about such a revolution." The extraordinary efflorescence
of book making is reflected in the large number of repositories, or libraries
(maktabiit), and the large number of manuscripts that have reached us. Once
the printed book came into being and the process of dethroning the manuscript
began, opposition to the new technology by the Islamic 'ulamii' grew. The
'u/amii', until the invention and spread of printing, monopolized the transmission
of knowledge. The manuscript, moreover, represented for the Muslims an
historic and cultural value. This remains so until today. Most of the Muslim
scholars who visit me at the Library of Congress begin their questioning by
asking how many Arabic or Islamic manuscripts the Library holds. Printing
meant a new cultural direction. The manuscript, which represented the old
culture, became the center of controversy between the old and the new. Although
it is presented in different forms and on many levels, this controversy remains
with us today.
The rise of al-warriiq, a person who made a profession out of transcribing
books, was a high point in the "Civilization of the Book." The warriiqun (plural
of warriiq) were the link between men of letters and the general public. They
were interested not only in beautiful calligraphy, but also in reproducing
correctly and exactly the text. They were not only copyists, but also booksellers,
and oftentimes they were men of letters themselves. (d.255/868), who
was a versatile author and a great bookworm, hit upon the idea of hiring booths
from the warriiqun and spending the nights in their shops reading. In his famous
book, Kitiib al-l}ayawiin (The Book of Animals), dedicates a lengthy
Introduction by George Atiyeh XV
section to the topic of "the book". In it he responds to a critic of books by
describing the value of the book as a companion, a vehicle of learning, and
a versatile tool for the success of all human endeavors. He recites stories about
book collecting, calligraphy, ancient writing, the preservation of cultural
heritage, translation in general and translation of religious books, book editing,
and the conflict between the written and oral traditions. Throughout the history
of Islam, oral transmission of "the book" proceeded alongside the written.
Many considered the written as merely a corroboration of and complement
to the memory.
There is indeed a great need to look into the role of the book in the
development of the Islamic 'MJrld and its culture. The history of the book, not
only as an artifact, but also in terms of intellectual content and physical
properties, needs to be seriously explored. An investigation into the creation,
manufacture, and use of the book in its written and printed forms has not been
systematically approached, although there have been several attempts to do so.
The kinship between the book and civilization is obvious yet understudied.
Investigating it, as far as the Islamic 'Mlrld is concerned, can offer many insights
into the nature and characteristics of that world.
The term "Islamic world" should be clarified. We don't mean by it the
ummah, or community of believers, rather the countries that became mostly
Muslim by religion and contributed to the growth and characterization of the
widely spread Islamic civilization. The essays and studies in the present volume
are, however, concerned only with what might be called the core of the Islamic
world, namely, the Middle East.
The distinguished professors and scholars who participated in the con-
ference expounded on many aspects and problems related to the book and its
study in the Islamic world. Professor Muhsin Mahdi, in his issue-raising paper,
confirms the need for more information on the history of books in the Islamic
world. He explains the reasons why the printing of religious books by Muslims
came late, as late as the nineteenth century, and wonders why the excellent
scribal traditions of dictation, collation, and illustration have not been applied
to the exigencies of modern book production. He systematically raises many
issues resulting from the introduction of printing, such as the impact of
translations on the development of the sciences, languages, and even orthog-
raphy. Furthermore, he calls for the preservation and sustenance of scholarly
traditions and systems while looking forward to the new technologies in the
editing and preservation of the great wealth of manuscripts remaining in the
Islamic world. Jacques Berque elaborates more abundantly on the meaning of
the term al-Kitiib (the Book) and the methods used in compiling the text of
the Koran in its final form, looking at the early conditions under which the
task of compilation was initiated. Looking at the properties having to do with
the Koran, Professor Berque discerns a structure of type strongly akin to the
XVI The Book in the Islamic World
synchronal and concludes that the Koranic "edition" attests to a reflective and
orderly character and is not a miscellany of disorganidation and arbitrariness.
The text of the Koran was the outcome of a laborious effort and is laden with
potentialities that have stood the test of time well.
Professor Franz Rosenthal discusses Muslim attitudes toward books and
the dilemma caused by the abundance of books in terms of quantity and quality.
Books were often so plentiful that one could think of discarding some, but this
was generally considered wrong. The destruction of books is discussed, when
and why it occurred, the meaning and scope of originality, and the relationship
between knowledge and books. Rosenthal points out the persistent distinction
between oral and written infOrmation, a theme that appears in several papers
and is effectively handled by Professor Seyyed Hossein Nasr, who discusses
the great significance throughout Islamic history of oral transmission in
education and the spoken word as compliment to the written text. The Islamic
intellectual tradition itself has functioned with the belief that oral tradition is
of central importance. Oral teaching always accompanied the written text.
Professor Annemarie Schimmel considers the metaphor connected with
the book in Islamic literature. After discussing the great love Muslims have
for books, she deals with the figurative language in which books are used as
metaphors in the works of the Persian and Persianate poets, showing the central
role the imagery of the book played in Islamic poetry.
Biographical books are among the earliest and most extensive genres of
Arabic literature. Professor Wcidad al-Qa<;fi believes that biographical dictionaries
are not only indispensable tools of research, but also a mirror in which are
reflected important aspects of the intellectual and cultural development of the
Islamic community. A study of the inner structure of biographical dictionaries
produced during the first nine centuries of Islam reveals that development.
Professor Ramzi Baalbaki traces the development of the grammatical book by
examining three stages in the history of Arabic grammar, based on Sibawayhi's
book (Kitiib) as the focal point in this development. He concludes that
Sibawayhi's originality was not to be matched by any of the later grammarians.
Professor Saliil) al-Dln al-Munajjid discusses the role of Muslim women in
learning, and after explaining the position of calligraphy in Islam, he investigates
women's role in the copying of Korans and narrates the achievements of several
women who distinguished themselves in that field. Professor David King
considers the significance of certain categories of book illustrations, especially
in works on astronomical instruments, and concludes that there are numerous
illustrations in Islamic scientific books which further our understanding of
different aspects of Islamic science, and even aspects of Islam and Islamic
civilization.
Illuminated and illustrated books in the Islamic world were sought after
diligently by kings, princes, and scholars. The special prestige attached to books
Introduction by George Atiyeh xvii
with a royal or princely provenance appears to have encouraged another method
of book collection used by rulers, that of appropriating volumes from each
other's libraries. Professor Priscilla Soucek and Dr. Filiz <;:agman follow the
path of such a volume now kept in the Topkapi Saray in Istanbul.
The transition from scribal to print culture, as exemplified by Al}mad Faris
al-Shidyaq, is ably presented by Dr. Geoffrey Roper, who has shown that al-
Shidyaq personifies in his career, as well as in his attitudes, the dawn of a new
cultural era :tOr the Arab and Islamic \IDrlds, an era in which the communications
revolution caused by the printing press brought radical changes to intellectual,
political, and social life. In my article on the book in the Arab world, I survey
the history of book publishing in the modem Arab world, describing the general
attributes of book production and dissemination, and the prevalent trends that
characterized the different periods of the last two centuries. Professor Eickelrnan's
work, although it does not seem to be related to the history of the book as
a cultural vehicle, is indirectly related in that it attempts, in a new approach,
to show the impact of new means of communication in the field of education,
a field that used to be associated almost exclusively with the book.
One can see from the sum total of the studies in this volume that we have
only touched upon the surface of a whole new multifaceted discipline, the history
of the book as a cultural vehicle. We hope that our efforts will lead to and point
the way for further studies on this important and serious subject.
In the editorial work we have sought uniformity but not conformity. We
adopted the Library of Congress' transliteration system and one style for the
annotations. All foreign words found in Webster's Third New International
Dictionary are not italicized. Some proper names are written as they have been
commonly used by the press or as they have been established by their owners.
Names of cities are transliterated only when there is no English equivalent.
The dates appear according to the Hijri as well as Gregorian calendars.
Whenever the solar instead of the lunar system is used for the Hijri year, this
is indicated. The words Koran and tiirikh are transliterated as Qur'an and ta'rikh
whenever the author has requested it.
The editor wishes to thank a great number of colleagues and friends for
their most valuable assistance. A special mention, however, should be made
of Michael Albin, who did not spare any time or effort in making the conference
"The Book in the Islamic World" the success it was, and to John Cole, the
director of the Center for the Book at the Library of Congress, who co-sponsored
the conference and supported it morally, administratively, and financially.
The editor also wishes to take this opportunity to express his gratitude to
Shaykh Al}mad Zaki Yamani, the Institute ofThrkish Studies, Saudi ARAMCO,
the United States Information Agency, and the Embassy of the Kingdom of Saudi
Arabia for their financial and moral support, which made holding the conference
possible. He also wishes to thank all those staff members in the Near East
xviii The Book in the Islamic World
Section and the Library of Congress whose help was crucial in organizing the
conference and the exhibit that accompanied it, in particular Christopher
Murphy, Anne Boni, Doris Hamburg, and Carol Ido.
George N. Atiyeh
1
From the Manuscript Age
to the Age of Printed Books
Muhsin Mahdi
The period of transition from the manuscript age to the age of printed books
is the second and less important transitional epoch in the history of the book
in the Islamic world. The first and more important epoch was the initial
emergence of the book during the first two centuries of the Islamic era, the
seventh and eighth centuries of the common era. The seriousness and persistence
with which scribes and scholars in the Islamic world were able during that
period to preserve and transmit the text of the most important of all books in
that world, the Koran, and, next, the traditional collections of the sayings and
deeds of the Prophet of Islam, meant that, once codified, their preservation
and transmission could remain free of the many problems besetting the
preservation and transmission of most other books, both religious and secular,
during the transition from the manuscript age to the age of printed books.
In contrast, the disturbing manner in which European printers took liberties
with the text of the Koran (when compared to the care taken in printing the
Gutenberg Bible, for instance) could not but raise doubts among Muslims
regarding the virtues of printing when they first came into contact with the
new technology. One look at the title page of the Koran printed in Hamburg
in 1694 (figure 1.1) must have made Muslim readers of the Koran think that
only the Devil himself could have produced such an ugly and faulty version
of their Holy Book; and the same must have been the impression made on them
by Alessandro de Paganino's Venice Koran printed in the 1530s, where the
printer, perhaps following some contemporary Arabic vernacular, did not
distinguish between certain letters of the alphabet, such as the diil and the dhiil
(figure 1.2). One would expect a handbook on medicine and medicaments, such
as the Arabic text of Avicenna's Canon, to be free of printing errors, since errors
in a book of this nature can easily lead to unfortunate results. Yet the Medici
edition (Rome, 1593) of this work commits a serious grammatical fault, to say
nothing of the syntactical infelicities, on the title page itself (figure 1.3). Unlike
Fig. 1.1. The Koran printed in Hamburg, Germany in 1694 by Officina Schultzio-
Schilleriana. Copy in Library of Congress.
, ...,.., ,

Fig. 1.2. The "Opening" of the first printed Koran in Europe (Venice, ca. 1537) by
Alessandro de Paganino.
I
L

w:lM11 ..q.
r'1tll-.,
R 0 }\1( AE.
ln. T ypograpltJa Mcdicq .
M.D.XCIII.
c..-.r........,
. 2 .

Fig. 1.3. Title page of Avicenna's Canon of Medicine printed in Rome, 1593, by the
Medici Press.
4 Mahdi
a faulty manuscript copy by some ignorant scribe, such printed books involve
an orderly organization, extensive financing, and the distribution of a large
number of copies with the same errors, making it less easy to dismiss them
as unimportant or inconsequential incidents.
1
This brings us to the frequently cited objections made in the Islamic world
to printing when it was first introduced, delays in introducing the printing of
books dealing with religious subjects, and the strictures against printing religious
works.
2
Were the initial fears of the dangers of printing books on religious
subjects justified? Yes, if we recall the examples just cited. But why were no
ways found to overcome such problems before the nineteenth century? Various
economic or doctrinal hypotheses have been presented to explain this phe-
nomenon. What is clear is that in many cultural centers in the Islamic world
a scribal tradition flourished with standards of accuracy that could not be assured
in printed books, especially when the printing was done outside the Islamic
world by printers with limited knowledge of the languages involved; and many
of the early printers both outside and inside the Islamic world were not Muslims
and not well versed in Islamic religious sciences. These strictures did not last;
ways were found around them, primarily in the control of standards that made
it possible to print books in all religious subjects, starting with the Koran.
But the expertise shown in the printing of the Koran and the badith was
a carryover from the expertise developed during the manuscript age in the strict
disciplines associated with these highly specialized texts. There was, on the
other hand, a more general scribal tradition specializing in the transmission
of books in the manuscript age and which, depending on the field it was in,
had developed specialized techniques and methods of dictation, collation, and
illustration that seem to have deteriorated with the advent of printing. Why were
those techniques of editing not transferred in an orderly fushion to the exigencies
of book production when using movable type? What was the extent of the effort
to recover, systematize, improve upon, and make use of the old scribal art in
the new conditions? Why was the printed book treated as though it were a
manuscript copy, with printed comments placed or variants noted on the margin
of the text? The art of textual criticism developed in Europe during the second
half of the nineteenth century does not seem to have reached the Islamic world,
and the beginnings made in introducing it during the present century remain
limited and partial. The result has been the loss of knowledge of the techniques
and approaches of earlier Islamic scholarship, now replaced by only an incom-
plete and imperfect knowledge of the new European tradition. A number of
works were no doubt edited and printed in an exemplary manner in the Islamic
world. It is equally true, nevertheless, that on the whole printing has simply
fixed and diffused many books that are hardly superior to any stray manuscript
copy untouched by a careful scholarly hand, and others whose scholarly form
is mere pretension.
From the Manuscript to the Age of Printed Books 5
The period of transition from the manuscript age to the age of printed books
in the Islamic world was long and tortuous, extending over centuries and
presenting the student of the history of the book with different sorts of problems
from one century to another and from one region of the Islamic world to another.
Then, after it largely came to an end sometime during the last half of the
nineteenth century and the beginning of the twentieth, a new problem arose:
the Islamic world slowly forgot what it meant to depend on scribes and
manuscript copies for the creation, diffusion, and transmission of knowledge.
In the mind of the vast public at least, printed books came to represent a degree
of solidity and authority that went far beyond the solidity and authority of the
manuscript copy or copies of the same book. Not only has the manuscript age
by now come to an end in the mind of the public-hardly anyone copies an
entire manuscript by hand anymore (unless it is in preparation for printing it,
and photographic reproduction and printing have in some cases made even this
effort unnecessary)-the manuscript tradition has for all intents and purposes
ceased to be alive and to develop as it had done for more than a millennium.
It is impossible, of course, to cover, or even touch upon, all the problems
arising from every aspect of the period of transition from the manuscript age
to the age of printed books. Indeed, it is foolish even to try to do so, given
how much remains unknown about the cultural, social, and economic history
of the period and how risky it is to establish any causal relation between the
introduction and spread of printed books in the Islamic world and particular
social, economic, and cultural factors that may have interacted with the intro-
duction of printing and the spread of printed books. Nevertheless, it may be
useful to raise some of the questions that need to be answered if one is to gain
a fuller picture of what happened during the period of transition and learn about
the issues involved in the transformation of books already there in manuscript
form into printed books in particular.
There are, to begin with, the numerous cultural and social implications
of the transition from the manuscript age to the age of printed books: the spread
of printing in the second half of the nineteenth century went hand in hand with
the rise of national sentiment among the various Muslim peoples and, as
happened in Europe earlier, Muslims became less and less likely to speak or
be able to read more than their own national language and had to have trans-
lations from other Islamic languages in order to preserve some of the cultural
homogeneity of the Islamic world. There is the role of the state in encouraging
translations and the spread of secular culture through control of some of the
early presses. There are the new cultural vistas and literary forms opened up
through printing. And there is the role of non-Muslim communities in spreading
the printing of books, first in Europe and then inside the Islamic world.
Then there are the authors (leaders of mystical fraternities, leading thinkers,
reformers, and pamphleteers) who wrote original works during the nineteenth
6 Mahdi
century and made a massive contribution to cultural change through printed
books. There are a number of interesting questions to be asked about the
diffusion of the ~ r k s of those contemporary authors. How many of the original
works printed during the period of transition survive today? How did the
transition help create a new profession, that of the author engaged not merely
in writing or dictating an original copy of his work and presenting it to a prince
in the hope of financial reward and otherwise hoping for the best as to its survival
and diffusion in manuscript form, but the author who could see his work printed,
corrected, published, diffused in many copies, and sold, establishing himself
slowly as a professional writer whose works are read immediately upon their
publication by wider circles of readers?
To what extent and how fust did such contemporary works, be they literary,
scientific, or religious, replace older ones? Who were the authors who
commanded large audiences? When did the reading public become so large
that only printing could satisfy it? Did printed books create the mass culture
and the standardization of reading habits, or was it the emergence of a mass
of educated readers that led to the spread of printing? Who was buying or reading
the newly printed books? Did the transition merely expand readership or did
it change its character as well? How was the expansion of readership connected
with the change in the educational system and the emergence of new classes
of professionals and educated people, the change from the time students of
religion and bureaucrats were the main readers to the time after the emergence
of new free professions-teachers and students of the new secular schools, new
types of lawyers, doctors, engineers-who began increasingly to collect and
read printed books?
Then there is the impact of translations and the role of printing in encour-
aging the paraphrase and translation of foreign books, especially those from
European languages, which were instrumental in introducing modern science
and technology to the Islamic world. Finally, one needs to consider such
questions as the importance of the press in the diffusion of scientific literature,
whether ancient or contemporary and Western, and of technical manuals of
medicine, military science and strategy engineering, and so forth.
Then there are the political and economic aspects of the production of
printed books. It was precisely that so many identical copies could be made
of printed books which made printing into a mass medium, drew the attention
of public authorities, religious and secular, and made it possible to exploit printed
books as instruments of state policy, to censor them, or to forbid their diffusion
when they were thought not to agree with, or to run counter to, the policy of
the state, something not easy to accomplish in the manuscript age. But the state
also came to own presses; it was able to distribute copies of printed books free
of charge; and it acquired the authority to decide which books should be printed
for use in its educational system. The state and the mystical fraternities seem
i
l
to have been the initial sponsors of the printed book in secular and religious
fields, respectively. In the case of the state, a ready clientele, consisting of
functionaries and students of technical and generally of secular schools, and
government subsidies, made the printing of books on non-religious subjects
economically feasible. But the role of the mystical orders in spreading the
printing of religious books is a subject that is well worth investigating also.
Like the state, they had a ready market in their membership, which made it
less risky to undertake the printing of books. Some mystical fraternities had
vast memberships spreading out in many countries of the Islamic world, a
readership that made the printing of literature of interest to these mystical
fraternities economically feasible. When and to what extent did printed religious
books begin to compete with printed secular literature, both ancient and
contemporary? How did the proportion of the latter grow relative to the total?
To answer such questions, it is important to collect, preserve, and study
the archives of publishers wherever they can still be found in the Islamic world,
but especially in major centers of printing such as Istanbul, Cairo, and Teheran.
One needs to study not only the fact of a book's publication, but how many
editions and printings there were, the size of each, and the pricing of copies.
We may even learn from these archives how slow or rapid the transition was
from the manuscript age to the age of printed books in each major center. In
general, one expects the new technologies to have exceeded by fur the old in
making books both widely accessible and accessible at greatly reduced prices,
and to have penetrated new markets and social and economic strata of society.
But did any of this happen? To what extent and at what point? What was the
weight of the role of the state as against such private institutions as religious
fraternities or private commercial enterprises? Which books were promoted
by which sector? Which books were in demand by which sector of the reading
public? What proportion of printed books were read by members of each of
the two educational systems, the religious and the scientific or secular, after
they parted company, and what portion by the wider public?
Then there is the impact of printing on the development of language. At
the beginning of the transition from the manuscript age to the age of printed
books in the Islamic world, the Arabic language was still the international
Islamic language in the religious and secular sciences, even though works on
modem European science and technology were translated into national languages
other than Arabic, such as Thrkish and Persian as well. What happened after
the introduction of printing? To what extend did Arabic maintain its position?
Was Arabic gradually replaced by the other national languages? When did this
take place in the case of each nation with a native tongue other than Arabic,
and in what fields? That is to say, when and how did languages like Persian,
Thrkish, and Urdu, in the main vehicles of literary culture and of the
administration, become vehicles of modern scientific disciplines as well? How
8 Mahdi
is it that even today, in matters of common concern to the Islamic \\Orld, works
are written in Arabic by writers from countries such as Iran, India, and
Pakistan?
3
Then there is the impact of printing on the orthography, structure, and
vocabulary of each of the languages of the Islamic world. To what extent did
printing contribute to simplification and uniformity in any of these aspects of
each of these languages? Would the problem of orthography have come to the
fore in Thrkey without the spread of printing? Would the problem of orthography
in Arabic, that is, the unsuccessful campaign for the use of Latin characters,
have been even thinkable without the spread of printing? How did printing
contribute to the spread and use of punctuation, and why is it that the only
strict punctuation system remains the one employed in printing the Koran, while
one fuces utter confusion, in Arabic at least, in the punctuation of books printed
with movable type? Similar questions need to be asked regarding other aspects
of scholarly form and techniques, such as the use of abbreviations. What explains
the rise and decline of strict standards of typography, of orthography, punctua-
tion, and design?
Then there is the role of linguistic and literary renaissance in the case of
each of the national languages during the nineteenth century in the recovery
and diffusion of older works of prose, poetry, narrative-in some cases recovered
from rare manuscript collections or libraries not accessible beyond small circles
of owners and scholars who happened to be in, or to have traveled to, the place
where the collection or library was located. To what extent did printing
contribute to the resurrection of works forgotten for a long time and made for
another age, with its own taste and preoccupations? How was the development
of printing related to the development of language education and literacy? And
how important was government intervention in the spread of printing (e. g. , the
availability of printed readers, grammars, dictionaries)? Above all, to what extent
was the diffusion of older works through printing a sign that these works were
being read, not merely acquired as collectibles?
It is characteristic of the transformation for the manuscript age to the age
of printed books in the Islamic world that it was a continuous process rather
than a violent turning point. Originally, the book in the Islamic world had co-
existed with an oral tradition in which memory played an important role and
writing was intended as an aid to memory. Yet writing is supposed to decrease
reliance on memory. The question is the extent to which printing may have
accelerated this trend. Apart from the question of memory, however, the writing
of books itself underwent many changes as to organization, the materials on and
with which books were written, and the techniques used by scribes and readers
to assure the book's integrity and correctness. This scribal and scholarly tradition
underwent certain changes over time in the material it used, in the scripts it
developed, and in the organization of book production; and local sub-traditions
developed in various parts of the Islamic world, in different languages, and
in different disciplines. By the time printing had become more than a curiosity
in the Islamic world, a strong scribal and scholarly tradition was in place which
was devoted to the book in manuscript form; and one of the most urgent tasks
of the students of the transition from the manuscript age to the age of printed
books in the Islamic world is to find out precisely what this scribal and scholarly
tradition consisted of in the main centers of Islamic civilization during the
eighteenth century its transformation during, the nineteenth, and its role in the
introduction of printing. For it is that tradition which was instrumental initially
in making the transition to the age of printed books.
One needs to ask, thererore, what were the technical and organizational
features of the book reproduction industry, not during the manuscript age in
general, but at the end of the manuscript age in particular: who engaged in
it, patronized it, subsidized it, helped sell the scribes' works, and supplied the
materials necessary for the exercise of the profession? Were they merchants,
technicians, learned men, calligraphers? Were there scriptoria for the mass
production of manuscript copies? What was the market for manuscript copies
like in places such as Istanbul, Cairo, or Isfahan? How far did manuscript copies
travel, and in which direction? Was the trade confined to the Islamic world?
Did the manuscript copies of certain books tend to remain in certain localities
and not cross certain borders? For instance, to what extent was the experience
of the Ottoman statesman and man of letters Ragib Mehmed P a ~ a (1699-1763),
in looking for Mulla Sadra's Asfor, unique? Ragib ~ a was a voracious book
collector who travelled through the Ottoman Empire and occupied important
political positions in Syria, Egypt, and Iraq. Yet he tells us that this compre-
hensive work of illuminationist philosophy and mysticism was not well known
in Anatolia and that he had to bring a copy from Iraq, from which then one
or two copies were made.
4
Since it is known that a vast number of manuscript
copies produced in the Safavid Empire reached Constantinople, and that this
particular \\Qrk was well known throughout the Safavid Empire and the Indian
subcontinent, was the absence of this particular book from the book market
in Istanbul and the libraries of Anatolia due to its subject matter and doctrinal
content? And why even now can one hardly find a lithographic copy of it in
Egypt, for instance, when it had served as the basic textbook of philosophy
in many schools in Iran and India?s
Let us turn to the printing and diffusion of books surviving from the
manuscript age. Of the millions of manuscript copies existing at the time when
printing began to spread in the Islamic world, not all could be printed; a selection
had to be made. By whom and on what basis was this selection made? By the
political authority aiming to spread knowledge of the practical arts necessary
for building a modern state? By booksellers with a view to large printings and
10 Mahdi
profit? What works and what literary forms disappeared from view without
being remembered except by a new generation of specialists? Were the books
most widely diffused in the Islamic world in manuscript form at the time printing
was introduced the ones printed? That is, did printing simply continue to feed
people's interest in books that were the most widely read before? Who were
the ancient Muslim authors selected and printed? How did the ancient Muslim
authors not usually read at the end of the manuscript age fare with their new
audiences? One could learn a great deal about such questions from studying
the holdings of libraries in Istanbul, Cairo, and Teheran that ceased to grow
as printing became widespread, provided one realizes that most of the mosque
and school libraries did not contain many types of books-popular literature,
practical disciplines, astrology, forbidden things-that were diffused and tended
to be widely read outside the schools and scholarly circles, and that such books
were also the ones more likely to perish. In general, then, one needs to find
out what the impact of printing was on the literary culture of the time. To what
extent did printing change the type of books available to readers, as compared
to before the introduction of printing? How and why did this change take place?
What kinds of books were involved? How much of the earlier literature became
more widely available? Was this partly due to the ease with which the text of
rare manuscript copies of a book could now be multiplied, to access to libraries
and collections in places that had been inaccessible before, or to the printing
and diffusion of information about manuscript copies through printing in general
and manuscript catalogues in particular?
It is a mistake to think that the scribal and scholarly tradition still alive
when the transition to printed books was taking place in the Islamic world was
as competent or achieved the same high standard when transcribing every kind
of book. In addition to the text of the Koran and the Traditions of the Prophet,
there were certain disciplines in which accurate and correct transmission was
essential. This was largely true of manuscript copies of books in scientific fields,
such as astronomy, medicine, and mathematics, where mistakes and corruption
could be easily detected by experts and render the manuscript copy almost
worthless as far as they were concerned. Many scribes copying manuscripts
in these disciplines were themselves experts to some extent or had developed
a method of copying that reproduced the exemplar with an unusual degree of
precision. In other fields (a vast majority of manuscript copies are in literary
fields, such as narratives, history, and geography) the language and sometimes
even the content of the work was consciously or unconsciously modernized
as manuscripts were copied from one generation to another. Much of the so-
called Middle Arabic features found in manuscript copies of books by early
authors can be attributed to this tendency.
In the age of printed books, the the person in charge
of producing a "correct" printed version-performed a task similar to that of
the scribe in the manuscript age, that is, he corrected and sometimes revised
the language of the manuscript copy befure it was sent to the printer, and the
same person contributed to assuring that the proofs were properly corrected
and a list of errata was appended to the printed book. Especially during the
period of the renaissance of linguistic learning (of the in Arabic, for
instance), it was the function of the to make sure that the language
of the manuscript copy prepared for the printer was free of grammatical mistakes
and stylistic blunders. But by "good" during the eighteenth and
nineteenth centuries one did not mean the stage the language had reached in
the eighth or ninth under the Umayyad or Abbasid dynasties; it was already
a neoclassical Ambic with its own features.
6
Thus, while the attempt was made
to stem the tide of so-called Middle Arabic, and in most cases much of this
kind of Arabic was eliminated, there was no assurance that it was replaced
by the Arabic current during the second or third century of the Islamic era.
And sometimes the attempt to reverse the evolution of the language led to making
the printed book more archaic than its author had meant it to be. The revision
of the language of all the first four printed versions of The Thousand and One
Nights is quite instructive in this respect.
It is therefore also important to trace the fortunes of this scribal and
scholarly tradition as printing came to be widespread in the Islamic world;
study the role of its representatives as publishers, editors, and proofreaders
in printing establishments; and learn about their educational background, first
in the religious institutions and then as part of the new Europeanized educational
system, where as scholars, teachers, and students they continued to play a
significant role in tmnsforrning the culture of the manuscript age into the culture
of printed books. This will require careful study of the techniques used in
preparing the manuscript for the printer; what manuscript material was
reproduced and what manuscript material was not reproduced (the fate of
marginal corrections, conjectures, variant readings, and comments) when a
manuscript was copied and corrected in preparation for being printed; the extent
to which these were reproduced or suppressed or placed in a different position
on the page; and whether dispensing with variant readings and the comments
in printed books was due to technical or economic reasons.
A systematic study of early printings can instruct us on whether and to
what extent the printed text was a better or worse scientific instrument that
a manuscript copy of the same book current before the introduction of printing.?
Yet the printed copy, which may not have been better than an imperfect
manuscript copy, was now published in hundreds if not thousands of copies,
sought by everyone interested in that book, and taken by the public to represent
the book itself, the book to which reference is made and from which quotations
are reproduced. It came to have the authority and finality only the author's
copy could have claimed in the manuscript age. It is therefOre important to
u Mahdi
find out when and to what extent printed books relegated manuscripts to a
secondary position so that readers came to be psychologically oriented to look
for, and expect to read, a printed book rather than a manuscript copy; and when
and to what extent the habit of reading a manuscript copy-the ability to handle
a manuscript copy with ease, interact with it, and learn from it-disappeared
from the reading public and became a specialty confined to a few scholars and
to those planning to transform the book from manuscript to print. Here again,
a study of libraries, public and private, and their use over time, especially those
that froze at a particular point in time, could help clarify such questions.
8
Nevertheless, the transition from the manuscript age to the age of printed
books in the Islamic world is not something that took place in the past only.
Even though a lot has happened during the past two centuries or so, in certain
respects the transition is still with us. Books in manuscript form continue to
be transformed into printed books, and this process will continue for the
foreseeable future, since a vast number of books produced during the manuscript
age in the Islamic world remain in manuscript furm and their transformation,
by way of printing, editing, and re-editing, is not likely to come to an end very
soon. Indeed, it is hard to conceive of a future date when the Islamic world
will cease to be concerned with the question of the transition from the manuscript
age to the age of printed books and with the many problems connected with
the transformation of its heritage at the hand of printers and editors. One can
only hope that, slowly, the transition will be controlled by scholars with
increasingly better knowledge of the scribal and scholarly tradition that produced
the books in the manuscript age, rather than by predators in search of gain
or fame.
Nor has the transformation always been directly from the book in manu-
script form to the printed book. We recall, for instance, the continuous role
played in the transformation of manuscript copies into printed books by
photography, microfilming, xeroxing, and, more recently, \\Ord processing.
Think, for instance, of the accuracy and ease with which photographic
reproductions of manuscript copies are now being printed. Is the product of
this process a manuscript copy or a printed book? Then there are other
techniques, some of which once played a significant intermediary role between
the book in manuscript rorm and books printed with movable type: lithography,
xylography, metal plates-processes that were once current in India, Iran, Egypt,
and Morocco. Their use in printing books of common prayers, the Koran,
religious tracts of all sorts, and secular books as well, is known.
Just at a time when the Islamic world seems to be reaping the benefits
of the technological and cultural revolution brought about by printing, that
revolution is being increasingly superseded by another revolution, one that is
replacing both the manuscript book and the printed book with the electronic,
machine-readable book. This is perhaps the most significant question we must
keep in mind as we look at the transition from the manuscript age to that of
printed books. But we need to remember also that, even without this recent
technological revolution, at least since the beginning of this century the printed
book began to lose some of its hold on the human race. One could say that
until about 1914 there was no other "mass" communication medium (apart from
the human mice of narrators, teachers, and preachers) besides the book, the
pamphlet, or the flier. There was no radio or television, no record or tape,
no ftlm, to compete to any significant extent with printed matter. Pictures played
only a limited role, and illustrations were rather rare and expensive. The
printed/written 'M>rd held a preeminent position; there were as yet no serious
competitors to reckon with. Whenever a serious question was disputed in the
Islamic community-Wahhabism, coffee drinking, smoking-the dispute was
enshrined in printed books, pamphlets, and fliers.
In some respects, the book in electronic, machine-readable form will mean
a return to one of the main features of the manuscript age: copies can be made
and subjected to continuous change and improvement, free of the fixed form
introduced by printing and movable type. With the use of various means of
communication, it will be possible to make what is initially a single copy
available immediately across the globe and as far as humans can reach beyond
this globe, with the possibility that, from one copy, an infinite number of copies
can be made, used, and disposed of.
The potential of this remlution is, or should be, of particular interest to
those engaged in the effort to collect and organize information about the
enormous surviving manuscript heritage of the Islamic world in all Islamic
languages. This potential extends far beyond the use currently made of it in
cataloging books and manuscripts. Sooner or later, the electronic, machine-
readable book-consisting of digitized text, digitized graphics, or a mixture
of digitized text and graphics-is likely to replace both the book as it was known
in the manuscript age and the book in print; for it will be the most convenient
way to access the content of books, including books that exist already in
manuscript form or in print. And the electronic, machine-readable form will
in turn determine the most convenient ways of packaging the book, just as it
was the manuscript and printing that determined its characteristic material
components.
Given the speed with which the technology is changing, however, it remains
to be seen how many forms the new electronic, machine-readable book will
take. It seems certain that the main advantages of the printed book, wide
diffusion and an affordable price, will continue to favor certain types of printed
books, perhaps those that are popular. Otherwise, many scholarly works, and
generally all works of specialized interest, including illustrations, will be
available in electronic furm, more easily accessible across the globe, not
14 Mahdi
requiring the publication of a large number of hard copies. The other function
of the printed book, that of reproducing the content of books existing in
manuscript form, and certainly much of the body of books produced in the
manuscript age on which scholars are likely to be working in the future, will
be transferred directly from the original manuscript form to electronic, machine-
readable form, rather than going through the printing stage, which can now
clearly be seen to have been yet another intermediate stage. But whether this
transition is carried out successfully or we end up with another mess on our
hands depends on how willing we are to learn more about the book in the
manuscript age, how willing we are to learn the lessons of the delays and
problems encountered during the transition from the manuscript age to the age
of printed books, and how determined we are to face and overcome the
difficulties encountered during the transition to the age of the electronic,
machine-readable book.
NOTES
1. To see that such problems can arise in books edited in more recent times
by authors who could not be accused of ignorance or malice, one can consult
the edition of the oork on the proof of prophecies by the lsma m:
thinker Abu Ya'qub al-Sijistani, Ithbiit al-nubftwiit, ed. 'Arif Tamir (Beirut,
1966), p.76, where the editor took the liberty of rewriting a paragraph of the
original text in twentieth-century Arabic.
2. The relevant decrees, legal opinions, and related documents have been
discussed recently by Wahid Gdoura, Le Debut de I 'imprimerie arabe a Istanbul
et en Syrie (Thnis, 1985), pt. 1, ch. 2, pt. 2, ch. 2; and Fawzi Abdulrazak,
"The Kingdom of the Book," PhD Dissertation, Boston University, 1990, ch. 4.
3. Consider, for instance, the Arabic writings of thinkers like Khomeini,
Mawdudi and S.S. Nadvi.
4. Ragib Saftnat al-Riighib (Bulaq, 1282/1865 or 66), p. 322.
5. The single lithographic copy of the work I came across in Egypt had
been brought there by an Indian scholar and reached the marketplace when
his library was sold after his death.
6. Once, in the manuscript reading room of the old Dar al-Kutub Library
building in the Bah al-Khalq, in Cairo, I saw across the table a blind Azharite
scholar with a youngster next to him reading from an old manuscript copy and
holding a ballpoint pen in his hand to transcribe the text of the manuscript in
a notebook. The youngster read aloud as he transcribed the manuscript while
the scholar listened, sometimes nodding in approval but frequently instructing
the youngster not to transcribe what was in the manuscript copy but what was
to the scholar's mind a more correct version of the text. Worse than this, he
seems to have arranged with the youngster that the latter should also correct
the text of the manuscript itself with his ballpoint pen. Whether because the
scholar was eminent or influential, I do not know, but the keeper of manuscripts
at Diir al-Kutub, the late Fu'iid Sayyid, did not dare protest the practice.
7. Modern editors treat printed books of which they cannot find the
manuscript source as just another manuscript copy, with all the potential virtues
and defects of a manuscript copy.
8. I recall, for instance, having to consult some Arabic manuscript copies
in the Kiipriilii Library in Istanbul, where the only other users of the tables
and chairs in the reading room. were high school students reading (modern
Turkish) school books they had brought with them rather than any of the
manuscript copies for which that library is known to users like myself.
2
The Koranic Text:
From Revelation to Compilation
Jacques Berque
Nowadays, the term that springs immediately to mind, and that is also commonly
used in discourse to designate the Koran, is the word "Book" with a capital
letter, that is, "Kitiibun" in the indefinite, and "al-Kitiibu" with the definite
article. Such a designation, however, is not helpful in specifying its subject.
In itself, "kitiib" is generic rather than specific and, per se, it means nothing
more than "written." It is context alone that can determine precisely whether
the designation is of a simple inscription, of a holy writ, of fate as pre-ordained
by God, of the roll that those called to justice in the Last Judgment shall wear
around their necks, or else of the Koran proper, as is the case here. It should
be noted here that the Koranic message, when first revealed to mankind, was
not delivered in written form, but rather in the form of intermittent vocal
communications, which varied widely in length.
It should also be noted that, according to dominant tradition, the opening
word of the Revelation consisted of the well-known injunction "lqra' ," of Surah
96. This term, however, is one that we often find a problem with: What does
it really mean?
If we take "lqra'" to mean simply "Read," as is often done, then what
text could the imperative "lqra'" be referring to? Could it be the standard
archetypal codex, "al-lmiim," of which the Koran presents itself as an extract?
On the other hand, the communication initiated from God to the Prophet had
taken, as it has always done, the auditory medium as well as the mediation
of the Archangel Gabriel. For a more accurate reflection of this aspect, "Chant
or Psalmody" is perhaps a more appropriate translation than simply "Read."
A third option which should not be excluded out of hand is the translation
"assemble or compile." One reservation, however, is that it references an ulterior
operation, now already completed, namely, the collection or recension of all
revealed messages. Admittedly, from the point of view of faith, this ordering
(sequencing) partakes of divine inspiration, hence of the atemporal and the pre-
17
18 Berque
ordained. Human logic, nonetheless, is liable to be confounded and puzzled
by seeing reference to the collected message at the very opening of the revelation.
In this, indeed, the main psychological and didactic dynamic is not so much
to anticipate, but to recollect. Hence there is all the richness that we find in
the uses of the root "dhkr." Even the Koran qualifies itself as dhikr, "recall,"
inasmuch as it calls up from, the depths of human memory truths long thought
obliterated. It also endows upon itself credibility for all time.
Certain listeners even go so far as to claim a special faculty for "re-saying"
the revealed message. The function of those "keepers by heart," or "}Juffoz,"
is not to be confounded with that of qurra and muqri' in, "readers and reciters."
The astounding reliability of the }Juffoz's memory, not uncommon in this type
of society, did provide a link between the transcendental communication
operating through the voice of the Prophet, and deep resonances evoked in the
primary consciousness and discourse of the people.
1
Shortly after the death of the Prophet, there appeared other modes of
preservation. Followers of the faith, according to tradition, began to inscribe
the message in segments, more or less long ones; they even attempted to bring
the text together as it was being revealed. They used any materials available
to them, for instance, scraps of parchments, shoulder blades, palm leaves cut
lengthwise, and so on. These picturesque inscriptions, however, provided only
limited guarantees of reliability. Apart from discrepancies or inconsistencies,
they risked omission. By definition, these fragments were disconnected. Besides,
there was no way the followers could have given consideration to the elaborate
taxonomy which, starting from a certain date, guided the compiling of the pieces
into graduated surahs.
It was the Prophet himself, we are told, who assumed the task of compiling
the Koran in written form. His actions were guided by inspiration, though he
was aided by secretaries and experts. To one of the most active among them,
Zayd ibn Thiibit, is attributed the statement: "We were at the Messenger of
God's [house] to collate the Koran from disparate scraps," or "nu' allifu al-
Qur' an min al-riqa' ."
2
Hence, the setting of the revelation into written form, defective as it was,
was nonetheless not wanting for a base in dogma, at least provisional,
considering that the order in which the pieces were to be fitted together was
in a large measure contingent upon the course of revelation that the Prophet
alone could foresee in advance.
In two surahs, 27, The Ant, and 15, Hijr, the opening verses juxtapose the
appellations "Koran" and "Kitab", inverting the order from the one to the other,
respectively: "ayatu al-kitabi wa-qura'nin mublnin" and "ayatu al-qura'ni wa-
kitabin mublnin." Shaykh T. Ibn Ashur underlines this chiasmic structure,
which puts the stress alternately on revelation as an ongoing process and on
The Koranic Text: From Revelation to Compilation 19
the objective entity which it now constitutes. In fact, the two formulations
concerned, being close in date of revelation (48th and 54th, respectively), do
not allow for the hypothesis of a change in intent from one formulation to the
other. It allows for the differentiation to me made between two referents which
have come to be generally confounded in subsequent usage. And thus it is all
the more reason to question the hypothesis of Bell, whereby a "Koran Period"
is to have preceded a "Book Period" at about the time of the Battle of Badr.
3
Furthermore, it is of interest to note the passages that have to do with putting
the revelation "in lines", mas(iiran, in 17, The Night Journey: 58; and 33, The
Clans: 6. These texts are classified as 50th and 90th in order of revelation by
tradition, and 67th and 103rd according to Noldeke, Theodor that is, for the
first surah, long before the Hijrah. Inasmuch as the revelation of the text, as
is often the case, keeps referring to temporal data (asbab), the written recording
had not only begun, but also was taken into consideration in the revelation itself,
along with an indication we ought not to forget, that of lines being drawn in
ink on a surface.
If we are to believe al-Bukhiiri, the Prophet at his death could not have
left a Koran that was fully inscribed, and only four of his Companions then
knew the full text of the message by heart.
4
The precariousness of a method
of preservation that was fully entrusted to memory naturally gave cause for
concern to those responsible. The very concern for the preservation and
protection of so sacred a heritage from the hazards of segmented transcriptions
or of memories subject to the risks of negligence, oblivion, or death-this is
what later on led the caliph 'Umar ibn 'Abd al-'Azlz to compile the l)adith-
prompted a first attempt at systematic compilation under the caliph Abii Bakr.
It was done on unbound sheets, qarii(is. The effort was renewed in a more
systematic way at the time of the caliph 'Uthmiin. It succeeded. The text then
acquired, in physical appearance and layout, the form that we currently know,
that is, that of a coherent text made up of divisions (surahs) and subdivisions
(verses). It was Zayd ibn Thiibit who presided over this accomplishment.
5
It was expected, both in establishing the corpus of content, as well as the
organization, to follow unswervingly the tradition of the Prophet. The Prophet,
we should again emphasize, had himself set this arrangement. The tradition,
however, is not so explicit with regard to the comprehensiveness of the initial
organization. Reliable sources limit it to the long surahs, the Hawiimim, surahs
that begin with the two initials H. M. (hii'mim), and the commonly
understood as the totality of the smaller text placed at the end of the collection.
Such, at least, is the traditional view, one that we have no way of contesting.
To do so, like some others have, would trigger endless controversies. We would
even be running the risk of endangering any attempt at a scientific approach
to the subject. On the other hand, what we can do, and ought to do, is look
20 Berque
into the early circumstances of an effort initiated while the revelation was still
in progress, and sustained throughout the period of delivery of the message;
we could thus cover the whole set of texts throughout its growth. It goes without
saying that a chronological sequence of individualized surahs such as we would
be able to reconstruct could not have been proven to be so until a sufficient
quantity of verbal material had been amassed in the memories of the reciters.
What classification were we to follow, or what order to establish, if, first of
all, there had been no identifiable units to be distinguished from one another
and placed in a serial order? This, at least, is what common sense \\.{>Uld suggest.
A first step was perhaps illustrated in the words of surah 11, Hud: 13;
"Produce ten surahs like it (this one)." But if the said surah fell in the eleventh
place in the sequence of the material collected, it would rank, in the sequence
of revelation, 52nd (or even 75th, according to N6ldeke). Such a start is troubling
indeed.
One should take special note of this remarkable aspect, that the tradition
has kept no record of any substantial disagreements over the text. We only know
that the Caliph gave orders to burn the already existing codices, just to avert
all debate. Was it to avert it or to close it, or both at the same time? In a
community so prone to argument of a subject held close to heart by all, one
wonders whether or not to attribute the silence of the sources, just as the latter
themselves do, to the unanimous consensus of the multiple witnesses (tawiitur)
(except for slight phonic variations on a text so collated, and eventually on the
details of the layout). Once more, we have no grounds to doubt that. But
unanimity on such a scale as the believers claim is owing to divine grace rather
than to sociological laws of transmission.
Another form of silence that impresses us is one that concerns the reactions
that were likely to be stirred up in the process of compiling the Koran, as a
result of the shift from the vocal to the visual medium. Obviously, the functions
of }Juffoz and muqri'In were only partially replaced by reading, a skill of little
currency at the time. Surely, their ritualistic, psychological and social roles
persist up to the present. This fact, however, has not prevented the "written"
to assume a certain halo of dignity which it did not possess initially. In matters
of religious texts, the transition from the spoken word, a carrier of a breath
of life, into signs restorable in resonant equivalents would not generally occur
gratuitously. The Bible becomes the echo of a "passion" which affects the word
of God when put in script. Such a kenosis does not usually occur without risks.
6
An affective reaction by some might sanction the despoiling of an original
fullness inherent in the breath and voice. A tradition, actually quite isolated,
has it that Ummayah ibn Abi al-Salt was the first to have read the written Koran.
In no way will this eliminate all adjudication in this case. The association with
this suspect poet, envious of prophetism, should it have happened, would not
be comfortably accepted?
Still, at the time of the Umayyad caliph 'Umar ibn 'Abd al-'Azlz, who
presided over the compilation of }Jadith, divergences in approach were noted
regarding the issue of the relative suitability of writing as opposed to memory
for the preservation of the Sunnah. In this connection, Malik mentions a question
put by the Prince to faqih and the reassuring answer of the latter: "There is
no objection to the recording of science." This was, after all, the opinion of
Abii J:lanlfah.
8
It is true that this consultation applied to Sunnah and not to the
Koran; a question of principle was nevertheless raised.
We must also stress that in Islam the transcription of the Koran into written
form did not in any way substitute completely the use of "live and permanent
voice." In the absence of more positive evidence to invalidate our observation,
we consider the reticence of the sources with regard to such a development
as somewhat amazing.
At the time and in the region, writing was scriptio defectiva, that is, lacking
periods and diacritical marks. The writing medium remained primitive,
obviously closer to an elliptical epigraphy than to a genuine form of
transcription. The successors of Mu}Jammad, no less than Mu}Jammad himself,
could not have ignored the existence of more advanced forms of writing, for
instance, Hebrew, Syriac, Greek, and Latin. This is especially true since the
Prophet had frequently visited the markets of Byzantine Syria. He must also
have seen the scrolls of the Torah in Mecca. He had them presented to him
several times. His Companion, Warqah ibn Nawfal, once a Christian, is believed
to have transcribed the Gospels in Hebraic characters.
The Koran refers to these works with the ancient biblical term of safr, plural
asfor.
9
The ironic anecdote of the donkey laden with books, carrying with solemn
compunction his precious load, conveys a perhaps all too familiar image (62,
The Day of Congregation: 5). There were, moreover, other words available
to translate a message into conventional signs, using any procedure of stable
encoding (tattooing, inscription). Let us recall a verse by Labi:d: "The flood
channels of al-Rayyan, their traces are laid bare, \IDrn smooth, just like writing
on the rocks" (kamii qamina al-wu/Ji)ii' siliimuha). Thus goes the mu'allaqah.
The critics analyze al-wul}iyii' as a plural form, and the term has more than
one appeal to it, especially since it was the one retained for "revelation". Several
examples of Lisiin al-'Amb attach to the meaning of the term many suggestive
undertones, especially those of a secret language, not easily accessible to others,
just as we would imagine it was initially done for writing. Let us also cite in
this connection the verse of Abii Wajzah al-Sa'dl: "0 dwelling of Asma, which
the rippled streams reduced to a wasteland, just like the writing, or the original
that the scribe spells."
As for the material surfaces on which they wrote, we have already
mentioned a variety of surfaces utilized by the early reciters of the Koran. For
22 Berque
ancient scriptures, for instance, the Torah, which was preserved in volumina
which could be unrolled, animal parchment, al-riqq, was used (52, The Mount:
2).
Poetry, furthermore, uses another vocable, qi(t, which we can construe
as an abbreviation of qi(ah, "a piece of parchment or paper." This was indeed
a "perfidious scriptum" qi(t muljallil, that al-Mutalammis threw into a river
when he read into it his own loss. Obviously, the writing was hastily done and
"antlike," munmal, or munammal, a figure of speech used in this context by
Abii al- 'Iyiil al-Hudhali:.
It is also true that in other periods of paganism. namely, at the time of
the letters of Tarafah and al-Mutalammis ($a}J,ifat al-Mutalammis), as well as
the imprecatory writings and vows that people used to throw at the Ka 'bah at
that time, it was the term !ja}J,ifah, "surface," hence, "sheet", that came to prevail.
When the Koran was finally collated in a systematic way into an official
manual, and in order to designate the edited volume, a term with the same
root was resorted to, following the two pronunciations of mU!f}J,af and mi!j}J,af
The first is deemed to be the older one, unless this has to do with a tribal
inflection of them, Tamim being inclined towards a vocalization with i, while
Qays leaned towards u. This noun, being still currently in use, was supposed
to have been derived from the preterit U!f}J,ifa, indicating the setting together
of a manuscript into leaves, !fU}J,uf, the plural of !ja}J,ifah. This original term
was commonly used to designate a plate made out of 'MJOd provided for feeding
about five persons. The diminutive !fa}J,ifah has long been given the special
meaning that concerns us here, namely, "page, sheet, folio."
10
Since then and
until the present, the book wherein the Islamic revelation has been collected
was to carry three names:
al-Kitiib, where the dominant connotation seems to refur, in the absence
of contextual precision, to the archetype held by God;
Koran (Qur'iin), which was a phonic unit subject to a repetitive,
continuous psalmody; and
Mu!j}J,af, as a visual object, an assembly of sheets, a "book," as we now
say, which brought among the Arabs the revolution of the book, a
revolution that followed, other things being equal, the revolution of tanzJl,
or revelation.
Let us compare this second stage with the stage when the message was
being communicated at the time of the Prophet. This communication unfolded
over a period of about twenty years. It was delivered in successive fragments,
in a scattered order. Regrouping it into sets of surahs could not normally be
achieved without a certain maturing in the memory of the Prophet, and of some
of his close affiliates, just as the individuatio (to borrow a medieval term) of
these future chapters were shaping up. This quality, we shall so call it for the
moment, was not to crystallize for the large surahs, such as the surah of al-Baqarah
(The Cow) (we are informed of when its revelation started but never when it was
completed), before several months, or even years, had elapsed. Inevitably, the
dictation of the surahs \\Ould interfere with the dictation of other texts.
It is true, some would retort, that this argument will not hold as long as
we cannot attribute human normality to a process marked by divine intervention.
But the Sunnah, concerned with preserving the strictly human attributes of the
Prophet that the Koran explicitly assigned to him, allows for an interpretation
along the lines of human normality. Allow me, in a witticism, to help illustrate
the notion by which we can come to conceive of so complex a process. This
whole process could be visualized as though the Messenger had gradually solved
a crossword puzzle, as the letters and boxes were revealed to him in successive
and partial strokes. Let us, however, draw away from this playful analogy. What
really matters is the inchoate and reflective characteristic of an operation that
is essentially diachronic, just like the revelation itself, a characteristic sharply
in contrast with the final collection that henceforth we have before our eyes.
This question has to do, let us repeat, with a book that was indeed put
out in a rudimentary form; but in spite of this, or rather in spite of the many
ways of reading it-eventually reduced to seven-it maintains through recitation,
whether individually or collectively, a stable and practically permanent consti-
tution which has endured since then, up to the present.
This book, on which the believers began to meditate, possesses features
particular to it alone, when compared to other monotheistic messages to which
it refers, that is, the Torah, the Psalms of David, and the Gospels. And if we
are to extend the comparison to approximately contemporary works, be it Latin
(Digesta), or Greek, Maximus the Confessor, Romanos Melodos, and, more
pertinently, The Fount of Wisdom of John the Damascene, there is no doubt
the Koran \\Ould present a more vivid contrast. The originality that astounded
the Arabs and, soon after, even the Byzantine polemicists, will not but gain
in intensity if submitted to a probe of its intrinsic properties, properties of which
we are most assured. Being inherent to the Koran, these properties owe nothing
to the speculation of others, not to a tradition that we can easily deem as broken,
nor to methods anachronic to such things.
Let us turn once more to those properties having to do with the composition
of the Koran, for they address best of all its quality as a book. It is exactly
here that the majority of Westerners will see nothing more than a miscellany
of disorganization and arbitrariness. We believe, however, that we can discern
a structure of a type strongly akin to the synchronal. There, for instance, is
a didactic recurrence of themes and the proliferation of alliterations, and also
the frequent overlapping and merging of motives.
The argument for a synchronal structure suffers, nonetheless, from a central
shortcoming. The traditional sequence of the revelation is maintained for eleven
24 Berque
surahs, numbered 31 to 51, and these alternately enclose ten non-successive
units. Within this entire group stand out such radiant texts as 36, Yasin and
40, The Believers; we could perhaps talk here of a central reinforcing support
where the two dimensions, the chronological and the synchronal, would
converge.
This would be even so much more convincing, since with surah 52, The
Mount, begins the second half of the Book, as it is commonly accepted. A
change of tone occurs then and there. The short surahs, which have an
apocalyptic ring to them. and which proceed from the first Meccan period,
pile up in the second part, while the homilies of the third period are
symmetrically paralleled in the first part. On the other hand, the surahs of
Medina, generally focusing on social matters (organizational and legislative),
are strewn among surahs 49 to 110, over almost the totality of the collected
work. All this cannot be due to mere chance.
Many other features of what we ought to call, rightly, the Koranic edition
attest to the same reflective, orderly character (even deliberative, I daresay).
I pass over the many mutations of the metatext, or the contents bearing on the
discourse itself; the significance of the role given in many surahs to the median
verse; the presence of rhythmic expressions, often decimal; in sum, a number
of facts bearing on form as well as content which we stressed elsewhere.
11
The rejection of a classification of surahs in terms of the sequence of their
revelation was an option carrying a crucial demarcation value. The Koranic
discourse was thus destined to leave the domain of metahistory in order to enter,
as an object of culture, the history of man. Was it not, after all, complete, and
did it not, at the same time, close the era of revelation? By the very movement
with which it closed up itself, it made room for human ritualistic and repetitive
practices, psalmody, exegesis, and a model; it returned to sacred history its
own revelation, along with the prophetic dictums which have accompanied it.
There is, moreover, an additional aspect which we have not touched upon
yet, that is, its potential as an art form. Writing, in Islam, was not to remain
a minor art confined only to the pages of a manuscript, nor even a social art,
similar to Roman epigraphy. Rather, it was to assume the proportions of a major
art, plastic as well as spiritual, embodied in the superb mural works in stucco,
plaster, and so on, which were to succeed one another over the centuries in
a manner that has no analogy in the West.U
Another development, no less rich in cultural value, is the importance
ascribed by Islamic tradition to the "science of letters," 'ilm al-l].urnf Esoterism,
Hermetism, and cosmogony all combined with phonetics and calligraphy in
a manner little intelligible to moderns. We cannot but refer in this connection
to the analysis recently made in relation to a work by Ibn 'ArabiP But even
though this may be no more than very old speculation, in part preceding Islam,
I
the elaboration of the letters into proper Arabic characters does not seem to
have occurred before the third/ninth century,1
4
The final form of the Koran certainly had not been reached by the time
the first copies of the Koran were made on parchment, and later on papyrus
and paper were made. The caliph 'Uthmiin, if we are to believe the tradition,
was to have been the first among the copyists. He is said to have been
assassinated while holding in his hand a copy of the Koran that he himself had
written." His assassin, al-Ghafiqi, is said to have kicked the venerable volume
wirh his foot,l
6
For what reason? A few years later, the calligrapher Zayd ibn
Asliin made a copy of the Koran for 'A'ishah and another for both
widows of the ProphetP
In his comments on the renowned calligraphy of Ibn al-Bawwiib
(d.413/1022), D S. Rice brings into focus the evolution of styles of writing,
18
starting from the most ancient, the angular, through Kufic, and up to the cursive
Naskhl, which prevailed toward the end of the fOurth/tenth century. Many of
these styles, illustrated with rich colors, were the object of study in a number
of scholarly monographs.
For our part, our attention will turn to a Koran, printed in color in Italy
by the Thnisian publisher A. Ben 'Abdallah, based on a photocopy of a text
calligraphed by Bach Marnluk l:la.ii Zuhayr, who had died, almost a centenarian,
in 1904. This copy, dating from 1275/1858, was revised by Shaykh Mul:lammad
'Ali al-Dalla' .
19
The 619-page volume, ornate with delicate colorings, presents
a distinctive peculiarity. On each page, at the rate of one to three times per
page, certain words or clusters of words are colored in red. The words affected
consist in all grammatical forms,-substantives, pronouns, adjectives, verbs,
and so on. The referents did not seem to present any special character. The
only oddity is that every time we open the volume flat, these words or clusters
of words written in red on the right-hand page, the even-numbered page, also
appear exactly at the corresponding place on the left-hand page, the odd-
numbered page.
Coincidence, we might Sa!J? Impossible, since the same arrangement recurs
from one end of the book to the other, or just about. It all begins with the
Fatil}ah, hence to the right, the word al-din of yawm al-din, wa of wa-iyylika,
alladhlna of alladhlna parallel to the left of the words ladhlna of alladhlna
yu'minuna, of wa of wa-mimmii raZIUJ'Iilhum, alladhlna of alladhlna yu'minilna.
Now, is this graphic tour de force due to a judicious prolongation of horizontal
features in the body or writing? Undoubtedly, at times, it is. But coincidences
or unusual tours de force are both apt to lead to perplexity, then stupor, when,
we become aware that those symmetries, no matter how artificial they may be,
persist from the beginning of the book to page 600.
There is even more. In surah 26, The Poets, symmetry brings back, and
recrossing them, nine lines of writing from page 378 to page 381. Translators
26 Berque
are well aware of the refrain that recurs, with its own sameness, v. 103 and
104, on pages 121-122, 132-140, and 174-175. We had to have, however, the
all too special configuration of this manuscript for these four distichs to overlap
respectively two by two, from odd-numbered page to page.
For these regular visual patterns to stand out in 300 other interfaces of
the volume, one would need to allow each of the recurrences to be lodged in
its proper place through the transcription of fifteen lines on a page and the
exact positioning of horizontal pot-hooks and intervals. This is quite strange,
since the verbal material which is spread out over the sheets of our volume,
as we all know, frrst appeared in a vocal and discursive manner in a sequence
completely different from that of the manuscript.
The Koranic text has always been the focus of research, from philological
investigation to numerical speculation. Nowadays, with the aid of computers,
the focus has turned to the study of frequency patterns. This is how many features
peculiar to the Book are now surfacing. To mention only one, the frequency
of the letter qiifin the t'M> Medinan Surahs, Qiifand al-Shura, was 57 in each,
totalling 114 times. This number, curiously, matches the number of surahs in
the Book. Based on features of this kind, believers are apt to keep entertaining
new arguments in support of the miraculous nature of the Koran. The secular
researcher, rightly or wrongly, would see no more into it than an extreme case
of internal regularity such as we often detect in the core of a poetic text, like
the phonic symmetry noted by H. Meschonic in Victor Hugo, or the anagram
of "spleen" only recently noted by Roman Jacobson in the poem carrying the
same title by Baudelaire, and so on.
However, let us suspend the discussion at this point. What matters is to
end with a conclusion based on hard evidence, and include a question for a
further investigation.
1. The conclusion: The symmetries of the t'M>-color manuscript described
above do indeed confirm the highly analytical character of Koranic recension
dating from the time of 'Uthmiin. This is a conclusion we have reached through
methods of internal textual criticism.
By becoming "foliar," mu$}Jaf, the message had found a concrete visual
form, quite at variance with its initial rhythm. One is now bound to view it
as a "single composition," jumlah wiil}idah (25, al-Furqiin: 30), or as "unrolled
sheets," $U/Jujun munashsharah (84, al-Mudaththar: 52). These definitions,
however, were once disclaimed, and indeed they did not fit into the early stages
of the message.
We must bear in mind, though, that it was through organized recitation
that the Koranic message sustained its phonic power, connected with a remem-
brance, with a breath, with a voice, all so linked together as to evoke the image
of the collectivity, rather than mere individuality.
Reading, tililwah, in fact, is different from a psalmody, qirii'ah, and, a
fortiori, from intonation, taghanni, and from chanting, tartil. Reading calls
for exegesis and for tradition, and it seeks an intellectual, in-depth grasp of
the text, by meditating on it, and pursuing the analysis of its contents through
the appropriate methods of exegesis or hermeneutics.
Materially, as already seen, this process has led to the development of
several arts, including calligraphy, illumination, binding, gilding, and so on.
2. As to the question called up earlier, we still uphold the skepticism and
doubt underlying the search we are venturing on.
The text of tanzil, "revelation," turned into a book under 'Uthmiin, was
the outcome of an elaboration so rich in possibilities that throughout the centuries.
it has held fast. What strikes us most in the present study is the active
involvement, just less than one generation after the death of the Prophet, of
an entire task force of experts designated by the Caliph himself, and apparently
not without the full consensus of the Companions.
Yet again, how can we help being intrigued by the complete silence kept
by the sources? This feeling will continue to live with us so long as there is
no new evidence available to break this silence.
We can ill imagine, indeed, how an attempt at putting the Koran into shape,
critical as it was, could have ever happened without arousing some opposition!
Given the high stakes involved, one assumes there must have been some reaction,
including some reactions that would qualify as hostile, if not even frightening.
Is it not likely that some such reaction may well have initiated the uprising
that finally took the life of the Caliph who had inaugurated the
Perhaps the relatively flimsy excuses invoked by the conspirators in vindication
of such an outrageous action could well offer, a contrario, a clue to this action's
motive? This is an assumption that has yet to be, and perhaps never will be,
sustained.
Translated by
Dr. Nairn N. Atiyeh
American University of Beirut
NOfES
1. The data summarized below are made explicit in all works dealing with
Koranic Islamology, especially R. Blachere, Introduction au Coran, 2nd ed.
(Paris, 1959); W. Montgomery Watt, Bell's Introduction to the Qur'an
(Edinburgh, 1970); and introduction of the great commentator Shaykh
Mui:tammad ai-Tahir ibn 'Ashur, al-Jal]rir wa-al-tanwir (Tunis, 1984), vol. 1.
28 Berque
2. Ibn 'Ashur, op. cit., 1: 86.
3. Montgomery Wcitt, op. cit., pp. 137 ff.
4. El-Bokhari, Les traditions lslamiques, trans. 0. Houdas (Paris, 1908),
3. 527 (l:ladith Anas).
5. El-Bokhari op. cit., 3: title 66, ch. 3 and r.
6. See Eugen Biser, "God's Word," in Dictionnaire de theologie, 1988 ed.,
p. 51lff.
7. Abu al-Faraj al-Isbahanl, Kitab al-aghani, ed. Ibrahim al-Abyarl, 31
vols. (Cairo, 1969), 4: 1335.
8. Malik ibn Anas (al-Imam), al-Muwarta', ed. 'Abd al-Wahhab 'Abd al-
Latlf (Beirut, 1981), p. 330.
9. Where another term comes close, phonetically, is in zabr, plural zubur.
See Koran, 27: 192: ZubUr awwalina. The term zabur is particularly related
to the Psalms of David.
10. Ibn Lisan al-'Arab (Cairo, 1966).
11. Reference here is made to the exegetical study which follows the
introduction to my translation of the Koran into French (Paris, 1990).
12. The monumental role of writing is made the subject of a study by
Armando Petrucci, La Scrittura ideologia e rappresentazione (Thrin, 1986).
Emile Male had already brought out the relations between the ornamentation
of cathedrals and the illumination of manuscripts. About the calligraphy of the
Koran as a strictly regulated art, see AbU 'Amr 'Uthman ibn Sa'ld al-Dan!,
al-Muqni' ft rasm matia/J,if ma'a kitab al-naqat, ed. M. Sadiq Qaml;liiwl
(Cairo, 1978).
13. See Denis Gril, "La science des lettres; in Ibn 'Arabi, Les illuminations
de Ia Mecque, ed. Michel Chodkiewicz (Paris, 1988), p. 385ff.
14. According to Sahl al-Thstari (d.283/896) and Ibn Masarrah (d.319/931),
for example.
15. al-Tabari, Les quatre premiers califes, trans. Hermann Zotenberg (Paris,
1981), p. 325.
16. Manuscript no. 14,246 of the National Library of Tunis. Also, M.
Hamidullah, The Prophet's &tablishing a State and His Succession (Islamabad,
1988), p. 147.
17. Ibn Anas, Muwaua', p. 344.
18. D.S. Rice, L'unique manuscrit d'Ibn al-Bawwab, trans. from English,
Club de Livre, Philiippe Leband, 1972.
19. Manuscript no. 14,246 of the National Library of Tunis.
20. There are indications given by Hichem Djait regarding the participation
of the Qurrii', especially those of Kufah, in the rebellion against the Caliph.
See his La grande discorde (1988), p. 125ff. and passim. According to 'Abd
Allah ibn al-Ash'ath al-Sijistiini, in his Kitiib al-ma,riil}if(Cairo, 1985), p. 20ff.,
the conflict of the Companion 'AbdAllah ibn Mas'iid with the Caliph and
with Zayd ibn Thiibit on the question of the Koran has left aside the case of
transcription.
--. - - . - .
,, __ ... __ __.. - ----
3
"Of Making Many Books There Is No End:"
The Classical Muslim View
Franz Rosenthal
In our time, we seem to have reached the point where we may well ask ourselves
whether the incessant production of books might not be too much of a good
thing. The more books we throw away (actually or figuratively), the more there
are to take their place. It is no longer unjustified to hope against hope that book
production could be limited, even if, on the face of it, it clearly involves an
uphill battle comparable to the limitation of population growth. Of course, those
in the book business, whether out in front or in the rear echelons, do not
welcome the prospect of reduced production and consider the idea as anything
from eccentric to scurrilous to outright dangerous.
Books have been valuable and cherished possessions all through history.
For the first time, their devaluation as material objects could possibly have
occurred in medieval Islam, what with the introduction of a rather cheap, yet
durable, writing material and the feverish and almost global activity in science
and scholarship.
1
This could conceivably have happened, but it did not. Before
the Muslim era, no realistic opportunity existed for the feeling to arise that
just too many books might be around. The famous verse of Ecclesiastes 12:12:
"Of making many books there is no end, and much study is a weariness of
flesh," at the most expresses a tentative apprehension as to theoretically
uncontrollable quantities of books, and so do other putative complaints about
the vastness of existing knowledge.
2
The biblical verse presents many difficulties
for the understanding and lends itself to various interpretations. To the best
of my-admittedly very limited-knowledge, no unanimity has as yet been
reached as to what it really meant in its historical context. Whatever it did mean
originally, it does not contain evidence that already in ancient times, people
complained about too many books as physical objects being around. There were
not, and could not have been.
The fact that Eccl. 12:12 is widely considered a later addition poses a further
problem? but this is a minor matter. Among the principal difficulties is, for
33
34 Rosenthal
one, the great variety of meanings of the Hebrew verb "to make" and, in the
second colon, the meaning ofthe hapax legomenon lahag. Recent translations
include a conservative "book learning" for "to make=to use,"
4
or "a thing
of no purpose" for "no end,"
5
as well as more radical suggestions such as
assuming that lahag is in fact parallel to "no end"
6
or re-interpreting the entire
passage as "Und lass dich, mein Sohn, von ihnen gut belehren, viele Bucher
ohne Unterlass zu benutzen und viel zu meditieren bis zur K6rpermiidigkeit."
7
The question of the applicability of "to make" to "books" appears to have been
settled by the existence of an equivalent idiom in Aramaic meaning "pro-
ducing ... a document (spr znh zy 'nh 'bdt)" and the Akkadian usage of enndu
as a stage in the bookmaking process.
8
The possibility that "making" here might
mean "collecting" (with reference to Eccl. 2:8 "I got me singers")
9
must be
put on hold for the time being, although it would go well with the Arabic idiom
of ikthiir min al-kutub for collecting many books.
10
However, the production
or overproduction of books would seem to be connected in Eccl. 12:12 to the
physical process of writing rather than the intellectual task of composing works.
Lahag, translated traditionally as "study" reflecting the Greek translation
and a combination with Arabic lahija "to be deeply engaged in something"
(preferably, in study)'' remains uncertain. The derivation from the root hiigiih
(or a Ugaritic hg)
12
cannot be dismissed offhand but leaves room for doubt.
Rabbinical associations of lahag with z_.:._g and h-g-wy are as much guesswork
as modern theories. It should, however, be noted that both 1-.:.-g and h-g-wy
are based upon the uttering of sounds, such as stammering or scoffing. The
Targum speaks of "(making) books of wisdom" as parallel to "(the occupation
with and understanding of) the words of the Torah."
13
More to the point, the
Syriac translation has man(l)la which is most readily understood as "speech."
Following this lead, a Syriac commentary of Ecclesiastes used "words (melle)."
14
And Arabic knows a noun lahjah in the meaning of "tongue, speech, dialect,"
whose history, however, is not quite clear.
15
It is thus _possible that lahag,
whatever its derivation, refers to some sort of oral expression. This was suspected
also by M. V. Fox who states that "either 'study' or 'utter' would make sense
here, because study in the ancient world was essentially oral recitation."
16
Taking
it all together, we may conclude that Eccl. 12:12 indeed referred originally to
the combination of two modes of study, the reading and reproduction of written
materials and oral discussion. Whatever mode was used committed, in the eyes
of the author, the student to an endless and painful task.
It may be worth noting that Eccl. 12:12 seems to be more famous now than
it was in premodern times. Generally speaking, the verse was not much discussed
and, again speaking generally, it was not frequently cited. From the medieval
Muslim environment, we have a comment by the tenth-century Karaite Salmon
ibn Yeruham, paraphrased by G. Vajda: "Et garde-toi encore des livres
innombrables qui ont ere faits." Man must not attempt to become too wise.
"Of Making Many Books There Is No End" 35
Nobody should make the rounds of cities and markets to search for philosophical
and heretical works,l7 Reflecting further the attitude of certain segments of
Muslim scholarship, Abu al-Barakat al-Baghdadf (d. ca. 54711166) interprets
Eccl. 12:12 as a warning against wasting time on books that are an outgrowth
of the human imagination, whose study could take up more than a human
lifetime. Abii al-Barakat translates lnhag as hadhayiin "talking nonsense."
18
It was too much knowledge, not too many books, that was complained about
in ancient times and continued to be complained about through medieval Islam.
Knowledge, especially in certain fields, could not be mastered in its entirety;
of books there were, in a way, never enough. In the course of time, we often
hear it said that works in a given discipline were "many." For example, Ibn
Khallikan (d. 682/1282) said that he did not intend to include caliphs among
his biographees, because "the many works on them are sufficient."
19
Works
on history were so many that they obviously could not all be listed.
20
And,
in particular, anything connected with l,tadfth and other religious subjects
produced an enormous literature.
21
When an eighth/fourteenth-century scholar
wrote a commentary of al-Bukharf's Sa}Jih, he was able to draw on 300 earlier
commentaries;
22
for him, this was a boast rather than a complaint. This
superabundance of specialized works also led to an unwholesome restriction
to standard worksP
Despair in the face of an overwhelming amount of existing knowledge was
the almost universal complaint and the situation most generally referred to.
The physical problem of the multitude of books was much less obvious. There
were many reasons for this state of affairs. In the first place, it has to do with
the character of our sources. They were the work of authors who naturally would
not wish to play down the desirability of making more books-preferably, of
course, their own. Like ourselves, they would rarely be willing to admit that
anything of theirs could be superfluous, let alone harmful. In their forewords,
the one thing they generally avoided was referring to an existing glut of other
works on the subject.
24
A second, more objective reason was the frequent lack
of books in a given environment and the constant need to replenish the stock.
In an area as vast and diversified as the Muslim world, imbalances in the supply
of books were unavoidable. Books that were plentiful in one place were hardly
known and accessible in another.
25
Since books were expensive, scholars, with
rare exceptions, had to build up their libraries by copying materials with their
own hands; this was so not only at the beginning of their careers, but usually
continued throughout their lives. Not many were so fortunate as to be able to
buy (or inherit) books or have others do the copying for them as a favor or
inexpensively, and it was probably quite unique for a scholar to have a wife
whom he could train in proper copying.
26
A third reason is peculiar to Muslim civilization and of great import for
the attitude toward books. It resulted from the never abandoned fiction-very
36 Rosenthal
soon to be enshrined in the very center of Muslim intellectual activity, the science
of l)adith-of the primacy of the spoken word. Books were seen as innovations
that came about only after the year U0/738 when the true models of scholarship,
the men around Mul)ammad and most men of the second generation, were
dead,27 and so on. In fact, of course, written books were indispensable almost
from the outset, as was admitted in various ways, for instance, by claiming
that memory had been good enough among the ancient Arabs to suffice for
preserving and safely transmitting all knowledge; among later generations, this
was no longer the case.
28
It became a matter of pride to own, or, at least, have
access to, as many books as possible. Yet the deep conviction lingered that there
was, in addition, something else that was essential for civilization, no matter
how many, or how few, books were around. As a result, their numbers were
basically inconsequential. Yet even in this climate, subdued feelings not only
about the very existence of books but also about their numbers can be observed
on occasion. Religious scholars would complain that once knowledge was
committed to writing, there developed an unending process of writing "book
after book after book,"
29
the implication being that oral transmission was more
restricted and thus less contaminated and more reliable than the endless array
of written material. Even for secular scholars, the great increase in books (al-
kutub made it possible for ignoramuses to infiltrate the ranks
of qualified intellectuals, and actually diminish the quality of books.
30
In a way,
this can be read, as another faint complaint about the proliferation of literature.
There were other ways in which feelings of this sort tried sporadically to
work their way to the surface. This is the subject of the following pages.
The formation of large libraries which was eagerly pursued inevitably led
to problems caused by quantity and variety. Selectivity in forming a library,
be it that of a private individual or one of semi-public character, was indicated.
31
It was an occasional problem then and, needless to say, has remained one to
this day. Not discarding any book was considered the better part of wisdom,
even if it was a book on a subject beyond the owner's interest and competence.
The brief chapter on "the amassing of books (al-ikthiir min al-kutub)" in the
Khatib al-Baghdadl's (d. 464/1071) Taqyid al-'ilm "The written fixation of
knowledge" contains the essence of medieval thought on the importance of each
single book for the educated. As the title suggests, the Taqyid ultimately comes
out in favor of the written word but balances and, in a way, conceals the message
by first presenting a full array of negative attitudes toward books. The chapter
in question deals with three considerations that work against selling any of the
books in one's library or not buying books one has the opportunity of buying.
Anecdotal as it is, it is best reported in the Khatib's own words.
32
The first of the three considerations is that a book deemed disposable may
later on turn out to be badly needed: "As remarked by some scholar, a person
must hoard all kinds of subjects, even subjects he does not know. He must amass
works on very many subjects. He must not believe that he can dispense with
any subject. If he can dispense with some books on one occasion, he may need
them on another. If he is unhappy with them at one time, he may enjoy them
at another. If he has no time for them on a given day, he may have time for
them on another day. He must not act in a hurry (to sell a book or pass up
the opportunity to buy one), lest he later regret very much to have done so.
It could happen that someone discards a book and then wants it badly but cannot
get hold of it. This may cause him great trouble and many sleepless nights.
We have a story about a certain scholar who said: 'Once I sold a book thinking
that I did not need it. Then I thought of some matter that was dealt with in
that book. I looked for it among all my books but could not find it. I decided
to ask some scholar about it the next morning, and I stayed up on my feet all
night.' When he was asked why he did not sit down rather than stand, he replied:
'I was so perturbed that I could not get a wink of sleep.' "
This scholar only lost a night's sleep and apparently was able to find a
replacement in a colleague's library. But it could also be terribly frustrating
and expensive to sell or discard a book, as described by the Khatib in the
following two stories: "Someone sold a book thinking that he did not need
it. Then he needed and looked for a copy but could not find any either to loan
or to buy. The man to whom he had sold his copy had left for his place of
residence. He went to him and told him that he would like to cancel the sale
and return the purchase price. When the man refused, he asked him to lend
him the book, so that he could copy the passage he was interested in. Again,
he received a negative response, so he went home frustrated and swore that
he would never again sell a book. There was someone else who sold a book
which he thought he did not need, but later he did need a passage from it.
He went to the new owner and asked him to let him copy the passage in question
but was told: 'You won't copy it unless you pav me the price of the entire book.'
So he had no choice but to return the price of the book, in order to copy the
passage he wanted.''
33
The words of someone who was asked why he did not
sell the books he did not need sums it all up: "If I do not need them today,
I may need them the next day."
The second consideration is that books in fields with which their owner
is unfamiliar at the moment may give him the opportunity to familiarize himself
with that field. Of course, any field of scholarship has its special interest: "When
someone bought a book outside his own special field and asked why he did
that, he replied: 'When I buy a book outside my own field of learning, I do
it in order to make that particular field part of my knowledge.' And when
someone else was asked why he did not buy books to have them in his house,
he replied that it was his lack of knowledge that prevented him from building
up a library. He was told that one who does not know buys books in order
to know. Again, someone else who used to buy every book he saw replied to
38 Rosenthal
the question why he bought books he did not need: 'I may need (at some time)
what I don't need (now).' "
34
We may add here that the Khatib's chapter ends
with an anecdote about the great bibliophile al-Jabi?: (d. 255/868) to the same
effect, with the stress on the idea that all written materials should be investigated
as to whether they contain information not found elsewhere. Nothing should
ever be dismissed offhand.
35
The third consideration concerns books as a scholar's indispensable tools.
He should therefore have them handy at all times: "A judge," the story goes,
"used to go into debt to buy books. Questioned about it he replied: 'Should
I not buy something that has taken me so far (in the world, i.e., to a
judgeship)?' "
36
Further in the same vein: "A carpenter had to sell his ax and
saw. He was sad about it and regretted having sold his tools, until one day he
saw a scholar, a neighbor of his, in the booksellers' market selling a book.
Now he was consoled. He remarked: 'If a scholar can sell his tools, a craftsman
is certainly excusable, or even more so, when he sells his.' "
We may conclude from this discourse in praise of books-which is one
among many-that books were often so plentiful that one could think of
discarding some, but this was generally considered wrong and something one
was not supposed to do. There was, however, a dissenting voice if a rather lonely
one according to our knowledge. The well-known physician and scientist in
eleventh-century Egypt, Ibn Ri<,lwan, tells us that he either sold the books for
which he had no use or stored them away in chests. Selling them, he contends,
was preferable to storing them.
37
It is not quite clear whether he meant that
it was better to put unneeded books back into circulation rather than keeping
them out of sight. It is, however, more likely given, Ibn Ri<,lwiin's great concern
with his finances, that he was unwilling to pass up an opportunity to make some
more money. He was well known as the champion of the hotly debated view
that learning from books was better than by means of oral instruction. It does
not seem that he was complaining about owning too many books, or more than
he was able to cope with, although this could have easily been the case.
Large semi-public libraries faced a bigger problem as to what to do with
their holdings when they grew too large. Books being valuable, the most
common danger for libraries, not the least the libraries of which every college
had one with a scholarly librarian, was frequent inroads into their holdings
by neglect and theft (the always present danger of accidental destruction by
fire or water damage does not concern us here). When large libraries were
dissolved, it proved a bonanza for scholars who could acquire or appropriate
books cheap or sell worthless or made to appear worthless, library books for
their own benefit.
38
The failure to return books borrowed from libraries or
individuals was often bemoaned in verse and prose. It was thus probably much
more difficult to hold together large libraries than trying to weed out unwanted
materials. However, we also hear about an author's hesitancy as to whether
his works would be accepted for incorporation into a large library.
39
Selectivity
was always practiced by collectors and was required in forming a ooqflibrary.
40
The deliberate destruction by fire or other means such as erasing (mal;ii),
washing off (ghasala), tearing up (kharraqa), or burying (dafana) should be
mentioned here, even if it had other motives than the weeding out of books
when they had become too many. Regrettably, as elsewhere in the world, book
burnings were not unheard of in Islam. They affected principally books adjudged
heretical or otherwise religiously objectionable.
41
This contributed to the virtual
disappearance of manuscripts of such works over the centuries. Where there
were both fervent partisans and violent opponents in substantial numbers, of
course, the situation was different. This, for instance, is shown by Ibn Arabfs
(d. 638/1240) voluminous corpus. Even if there were those who wrotefatwiis
permitting the destruction of all books by him,
42
or who went to such scurrilous
lengths as tying the Kitiib al-Fu!fU!i to the tail of a dog,
43
his innumerable followers
saw to it that copies of his works survived. An instructive story on the destruction
of a work of presumably literary merit is reported in connection with a book
by the blind poet al-Ma'arri (d. 44911057) which supposedly criticized the
Qur'an. A librarian, of all people, destroyed it. He was challenged by al-Wajih
al-Nal)wi (532-612/1137[8]-1215) with a witty argument: If the work was indeed
equal to, or better than, the Qur'an, it would be untouchable; on the other hand,
if it was, as there could be no doubt, inferior to it, it ought to be preserved
as a witness to the inimitability of the Holy Book.
44
Perhaps, the underlying
and unexpressed moral of the al-Wajih's remark was disapproval of the
destruction of books in general.
The destruction of valuable property such as books expectedly found the
attention of jurists. Strict Hanbalite opinion, for instance, was expressed by
a scholar of the stature oflbn Qayyim al-Jawziyah (d. 75111350). Other schools
and individuals saw the matter differently.
45
Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyah held that
no financial responsibility resulted from the destruction of books. It was as
legal and free from liability as the destruction of everything connected with
wine. Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyah's basic tradition is one of Abu Bakr al-Marrudhi
(al-Marwazl) (d. 275/888) who consulted Ibn I:Ianbal (d. 2411855) on whether
he thought that he could burn or tear up a book he had borrowed that contained
objectionable matters. Ibn l:lanbal expressed the view that it was permissible,
quoting a tradition to the effect that the Messenger of God once saw a book
in 'Umar's hand in which 'Umar had written down material from the Torah
that had pleased him because it agreed with the Qur'an. The Prophet's face
showed such anger that 'Umar rushed to the furnace and threw the book into
it. How then, Ibn Qayyim al-Jawzlyah continued, would the Prophet have felt
had he been able to see books which contradicted the Qur'an and his Sunnah
as were published later. Only the Qur'an and the l)adfth were permitted to be
put down in writing, and this is presented as the view of Ibn I:Ianbal himself.
40 Rosenthal
All books on m'rhere, approximately, dogmatic and juridical speculation-and
all the more so, all books on other subjects were anathema as leading to error.
To err is human, Ibn l:lanbal is said to have opined, but the most prone to error
are those who write books. While the composition of books was seen as a
complicated legal problem, Ibn I:Ianbal and his followers were adamantly
opposed to books that were in conflict with the Qur'an and the Sunnah. It was,
however, different with \IDrks written against those books; they could fall into
any of the positive legal classifications as necessary, preferable, or permitted.
46
It does not take much to realize that we have here a good example of the eternal
problem of censorship. Once set in motion, does it have proper limits, and
can they be observed without detriment to intellectual life and growth? We do
not know the answer.
Another common theme is that of an author himself burning his books
or ordering their destructions. Among litterateurs, Abu l:layyan al-Tawl)idi (d.
after 400/1009) is famous or infamous for having "burned his books at the end
of his life because they served no longer any purpose and he did not want those
who did not appreciate their worth to have them after his death." In a letter,
in which he defends his action, he speaks of burning his valuable books or
washing them off. Having lost everybody near and dear to him, he says, "I
found it difficult to leave them to people who would play around with them,
besmirch my honor when looking into them, gloat over my oversights and
mistakes when studying them more closely, and look at each other (and say
how) incompetent I am."
47
This makes it clear that al-Tawl)idi speaks about
his own books and not about books by others in his library. It would seem a
bit curious that he would burn his own works when they included books that
had been published and had been in general circulation for a long time.
Therefore, speaking about his own "books," there can be no doubt that he had
in mind his unpublished manuscripts and, in particular, his notebooks and
drafts.
48
This also applies to, and is confirmed by, his list of those early Muslims
who served as model and excuse for his action. The earliest name in al-Tawi)Idi's
list is Abii 'Amr ibn al-'Ala' who buried his books. A Sufi, Dawud al-Ta'i
(d. 205/821), threw his books into the river,
49
while Yusuf ibn Asbatlocked
his away in a mountain cave.
50
Another Sufi, Abu Sulayman al-Darani, burned
his books in a furnace.
51
The great Sufyan al-Thawri (d. 1611778) tore his
manuscripts to pieces and scattered the pieces in the wind.
52
The last name
in the list is that of a teacher of al-Tawl)idi' Abu Sa'id al-Sirafi (d. 369/979),
who exhorted his son (Abii) Mul)ammad
53
to burn his books if they turned
out to play him and others false and distract them from acquiring religious merit;
as in the numerous examples from modern times for requests to destroy the
literary Nachlass of famous men, this request, of course, may or may not have
been honored. The variety of ways for the disposal of books we find in al-
Tawi)Idi's list is owed to his sense of style, and not necessarily to the sources
from which he derived his information.
With the possible exception of Abu Sa'Id al-Sirafi who, however, was highly
praised for his asceticism, all these men were famous exemplars of Muslim
piety and religious commitment. Their alleged actions expressed their suspicion
of the written word in general. But they hardly were appropriate models for
al-Tawi)Idi who, in spite of pietistic episodes in his life, produced mainly works
that were quite worldly in character. As other sources make abundantly clear,
the destruction of one's written materials is a topos of the science of i)adith
and of mysticism. How much reality was connected with the topos, we cannot
judge. Later biographers showed a certain lack of enthusiasm for reporting these
data.
We thus hear it said already about the first/seventh-century 'Abidah al-
Salmiini that he called for his "books" and erased them when he lay on his
deathbed. Asked tor his reason, he replied that he feared that some people might
get hold of them who would not treat them properly (yatf,a'unahii ghayr
mawa4rihii).s
4
This seems to be the earliest and, superfluous to say, fictitious
example within the tradition of i)adith scholarship. The Khatib al-Baghdiidi
mentions already Ibn Mas'iid among his many examples of men who erased
written i)adith materiaJ.Ss He tells of Abii Qilabah that he willed his "books"
to another scholar if the latter survived him; if not, they were to burned
or, according to another recension, torn up.s
6
A certain Yiinus ibn'Isa meant
to burn his books.s
7
Shu'bah ibn al-l:lajjaj (d. 160/777) directed his son Sa'd
to wash off and bury his "books" after his death, which was done.ss Others
buried eighteen chests and baskets of books for Bishr al-l:liifi. It is to the credit
of Ibn l:lanbal that he could not see any sense in burning books.
60
These and similar data continued to have a long life. The seventeenth-
century l:liijji Kha!Ifah has a list that includes al-Tawi)Idi's Abii 'Amr ibn
al-'Alii', Diiwiid al-Tii'I, and Sufyiin al-Thawrii. He took their names not from
al-Tawi)Idt but from other sources which he indicates, but which I have been
unable to check. He added the Sufi Ibn Abii al-l:lawiiri (6th/12th century) from
the J!ilyah of Abii Nu'aym (d. 430/103Q). The J!ilyah presents
different recensions, all of which agree that Ibn Abt al-l:lawarl was motivated
by his conviction that books may serve as guides to gnosis but become
superfluous as soon as a person attains gnosis and reaches the Lord.
61
It is to l:lajjt Kha!Ifuh's credit that he clearly distinguished between the
two strands that defined all the statements about the destruction of "books."
One of them, he realized, was the need of i)adtth theoreticians to produce telling
evidence for the alleged superiority of oral over written transmission. The other
was the persistent claim of pious individuals and devoted mystics to have direct
access to the divine which made any material medium such as books altogether
unnecessary and undesirable.
62
l:lajjt Khallfh considers the view expressed by
Ibn l:lajar in connection with Diiwiid al-Tii'I that the motivation for the
destruction of their books by men like him was the prevention of their
42 Rosenthal
transmission in a way that might lead to their being branded as "weak
transmitters." On his part, l:lajji Khallfah realized that more was involved here:
"This explanation," he says, "would not hold for the destruction of their
notebooks (dafotir) by Ibn Abl al-l:lawarl and his ilk. Diiwiid al-Tii'l did what
he did because he was concerned about the resulting weakness of his isniid.
On the other hand, Ibn Abl al-l:lawarl did it because of his asceticism and
devotion to God. The explanation why he (and others like him) chose to destroy
(their books, instead of selling them or giving them away) might perhaps be
(sought in their fear) that, if they had divested themselves of the possession
of their dafotir through gift or sale, their emotional (qalbf) attachment to them
would not have been severed completely and they could not be sure that they
might not at some time get the urge to go back to them and study them, thereby
occupying themselves with something other than God."
63
In historical cases, the evidence for such destruction is occasionally
ambiguous. Thus, we hear that Al:tmad ibn Isma'Il ibn Abl al-Su'iid (814-870/
1412-66) reached the point, probably because of religious scruples(?), where
he wanted to give up all his literary activities, and he washed off all his poetical
and prose writings, so that only his previously published works survived.
However, another source maintains that this did not happen intentionally. When
Ibn Abl al-Su'iid was in the process of sorting out the poems he did not like
in order to destroy them, a colleague appeared unexpectedly and he went out
to meet him. Meanwhile, he ordered someone to destroy the papers on the right
in his study. That individual became confused and destroyed the papers which
Ibn Abl al-Su'iid wanted to keep. When Ibn Abi al-Su'iid came back and saw
what had happened, he was very dismayed (suqita ft yadihi) and destroyed the
rest.
64
Such destruction of papers and notes, or books in our sense, whether
historical or not, did not reflect on the size of book production. This, I feel,
probably also applies to a statement telling us that, at the time it was made,
there were people who disapproved of all authorship (al-ta$ni/ wa-al-ta' lif),
even of those who were qualified and knowledgeable enough to write books.
So far, I have been unable to trace this statement to any source earlier than
Badr al-Dln ibn Jamii'ah (639-733/1241-1333) who mentions it in his well-known
treatise on education, entitled Tadhkirot al-siimi'

Ibn Jamii 'ah
strongly disapproves of this attitude. If, he argues, there is no legal disapproval
of the written fixation of poetry and entertaining stories, provided no indecency
is involved, why, then, should the writing of books on useful religious subjects
be disapproved? It is obvious that unqualified people should never be allowed
to write books on any subject. As Ibn Jamii'ah sees it, the only possible
explanation for the disapproval of authoring books is the constant envy and
competitiveness among generations (al-ta}Jiisud bayna ahl al-a'$iir).
66
Quoting
Ibn Jamii'ah's view, l:lii.iii Khallfah then goes on to criticize it as a reflection
of the popular attitude that considers only the achievements of earlier generations
as important and routinely holds contemporary scholars in low esteem, and
he treats his readers to the verses:
You who think nothing of contemporaries,
considering the ancients to be out in front:
The ancients were once young/new,
And the young/new will stay on and become ancient.
67
Neither Ibn Jama'ah nor l:lajji' Khaufah seem to be correct. The disapproval
of composing books may also here be rooted rather in the pietistic/mystic attitude
and the long tradition of philosophers (such as Socrates) and, above all, mystics
who feel revulsion at the thought of profaning their insights. It is not impossible
that the expression could be explained as a complaint about the proliferation
of books, but this does not really seem plausible.
The problem of overproduction is more directly addressed in the strong
sentiment in favor of abridgements and brief handbooks as against long,
comprehensive, and scholarly works. The latter were, of course, always pro-
duced in large numbers. They were, in fact, quite characteristic products of
medieval Muslim civilization. However, the attitude, serious in part and in part
a snobbish pretense, that big books are a nuisance was old and deeply engrained.
al-Tawl}i'di' put it succinctly: "Big books are boring (al-kutub al-(iwiil
mus'imah).
68
As A. Mez stressed long ago, writers of Muslim civilization's
so-called golden age feared nothing more than boring the reader.
69
This fear
persisted through the centuries and found expression in the frequently professed
aversion to unnecessary length and the claim of having exercised restraint for
the sake of brevity. While conciseness had special meaning for the entertaining
literature, it soon invaded the scholarly and scientific community where it led
to the popularity of compendia. Resistance to the trend never faltered entirely.
For instance, in the introduction of his long geographical dictionary, Yaqiit
(d. 627/1229) expressed himself with strong emotion against any attempt to
shorten his work, quoting a l - J a l } i ~ as having been of the same mind when he
stated forcefully that an author is "like a painter; his work is a painting
representing its subject perfectly, and the idea of abridging it means atrocious
mutilation?
0
The practice (often also indulged in by us) of exploiting large works
for educational and/or commercial reasons by compiling shortened versions,
which, as noted by Yaqiit, stood a better chance of achieving wide dissemi-
nation, was part and parcel of medieval Muslim life.
It was recognized that progress dictated the creation of larger and better
works. Treatments of new and as yet unexplored subjects tended to start out
small and then grow to ever larger size in the course of time?
1
Originality was
stressed as the fundamental purpose of and justification for writing and was
one of the guiding principles of research.
72
The remark, already used by Abii
44 Rosenthal
Tammiim (d. 2311846) the poet as a cento,
73
was constantly repeated: "How
much did the ancients leave for later generations (kam taraka al-awwalu
lil-iikhiri)." is quoted again by Yiiqut as having stated that nothing is
more harmful to science and scholarship than the opposite contention that the
ancients did not leave anything for later generations, as this had a discouraging
and debilitating effect.
74
The consequence, however, was the constant creation
of new disciplines and subdisciplines, small at first and then often expanding
to barely manageable proportions. With the technical means then available, they
were probably unmanageable and required forgetting and discarding. More,
and better, techniques are available now and offer a certain, possibly deceptive,
measure of hope that we shall be able to keep up with the accumulation of
knowledge and of books.
The theoretical approach of philosophers to the overwhelming mass and
variety of knowledge put into writing was to suggest, as did al-Tawbidi and
al-Miskawayh (d. 422/1030), that "since the particulars (juz'fviit) are infinite,
and whatever is infinite cannot achieve existence, it is the generalities of each
discipline, which comprise all its particulars in potentia, that should be aimed
at."
75
Deprived of its technical philosophical trimmings, the idea also lived on
and found expression, for instance, in al-Zarkashrs (d. 794/1391) detailed
elaboration of the different Qur' iinic sciences. Since, he claims, "the ulum
al-Qur' iin are innumerable and the Qur' iin's meanings are inexhaustible, one
must deal with them (not exhaustively but) to the degree possible." And "since
earlier scholars composed no work comprising the different topics (anwii') of
Qur'iinic science in the way it was done in relation to the science of )Jadith,"
he wrote his comprehensive work covering forty-six topics, but, he says,
I am aware that every one of these topics cannot be dealt with exhaustively
by any human being. If anyone tried, the whole of his life would be spent,
and yet, he would not accomplish his task. Therefore, we have restricted
ourselves to the principles of each topic, with (only) occasional hints
at the details for-quoting Hippocrates without naming him-"the craft
is long and life is short."
76
We have dealt with as much as can possibly be
achieved by imperfect speech, in accordance with the verse:
They said: Take the essence/eye ('ayn) of everything! I replied: There
is excellence in the essence/eye, but the beholder of the essence/the
glance of the eye (is imperfect).
77
In the popular and entertaining literature, a simpler analogy was proposed
in a saying which, like the philosophical approach, also had its roots in classical
antiquity: Like a bee, an author should select the best flower. A more direct
version of the same idea was attributed to ancient Muslims such as 'Abd Allah
ibn 'Abbas (d. 68/686) and Ibn Sirin (d. 110/728): "Knowledge is too much for
being comprehended in its entirety. Thus, take the best of every knowledge!"
78
The statement of Ibn 'Abbas was combined later with another one attributed
to al-Sha'bi who, like Ibn Sinn, lived a generation after Ibn 'Abbas. al-Sha'bi
(d. 1051723) supposedly also alluded to Hippocrates without naming him. As
he phrased it: "Knowledge is much, and life is little. Thus, take of knowledge
the variety of its inner spirit is, its essences ('uyun)-and leave
alone its outward expression

This advice was meant for the creative scholar and intellectual. For the
mass of the educated, the compendium, the short exposition of the essentials
or high points of a subject or the selective presentation of details, promised
a better approach toward the elusive mastery of knowledge in its infinite variety.
Another approach was for an author to justify writing a book by suggesting
that his work, being an original product, serve to replace all other works
in the field
80
-this, we might say, being one way of dealing with the avalanche
of books. In writing his great chronological work, al-Biriini (d. 440/1048), for
instance, claimed that the highly educated person who asked him to compose
such a work did so in order to have a book that would make it superfluous
for him to consult a large number of sources.
81
More commonly, authors
expressed on their own the hope or conviction that they were about to replace
any need to consult all the earlier works that had dealt with their subject. The
large number of titles such as al-Mughni, it may be noted, also attests to this
motivation. On the other hand, it could also happen that a would-be author
originally thought that the existing literature was exhaustive and made another
work on the same subject unnecessary. After much research, however, he
discovered that this was not the case, and he was justified in going ahead with
his project and compose a more complete work likely to supplant all his
predecessors' efforts. He reflected, at the end, "how much the ancients had
left for later generations to do."
82
The production of compendia in order to cope with the great amount of
material to be read and digested and to make the acquisition of knowledge easier
for the student eventually found full discussion in both its positive and its negative
aspects in Ibn Khaldiin's Muqaddimah.
83
As Ibn Khaldiin (d. 808/1406) saw
it, the great number of scholarly works, coupled with the refinement and
sophistication reached in many fields, is an obstacle to scholarship, while the
great number of brief handbooks is detrimental to the formation of a sound
scholarly habit and thus of outstanding scholars. In many disciplines such as
grammar
84
the literature is too vast for everything to be perused. More recently,
says Ibn Khaldiin, this has also come to apply to the many writings on literary
criticism which were produced in addition to the four standard works on the
subject.
85
An even more crowded field, the science of i}adith, had developed
an enormous amount of books and this had the consequence that a limited
number of basic works was exclusively used for reference.
86
Ibn Khaldiin, it
seems, considered this a rather dubious development. He did not go as far as
46 Rosenthal
to suggest that there were too many books on the market, but he clearly intimated
that something was wrong with the prevailing situation and called for remedies
if such could be found. Focusing his attention on the handbooks, abridgements,
and compendia, he acknowledged that one of the legitimate purposes of
authorship was generally recognized the production of brief and succinct
abridgements.
87
The custom, he said, had become popular in his time (although
it was, of course, widely practiced in preceding centuries). He considered such
abridgements as often awkward but did not object to them as such. He pointed
out that on the one hand, they tended to be too succinct and complicated for
beginners, while, on the other, they were likely to stultify genuine scholarly
minds, for true scholarship, he argued, required the painstaking study of long
and detailed works over a considerable extent of time. It is clsar that for Ibn
Khaldiin and those who followed him, the issue was not seen simply as the
superabundance of books, although he realized that it caused a problem. It was
rather a question of the proper methods and goals of scholarly and literary
activity which were appropriate for a highly developed civilization such as his.
These methods and goals, however, happened unavoidably to be dependent on
the relentless production and wide availability of books. By his time and very
probably much earlier, their numbers had come to seem threatening.
Ibn Khaldiin's discussion greatly impressed l;liijji Khallfah who utilized
it in the introduction of his large catalogue of Arabic books in Istanbul or
otherwise known in his time.
88
In his capacity as a bibliographer, l;liijji Khallfah
might well have had special feelings about the cultural significance of the riches
of book production in Islam. About seven centuries earlier, the situation was
different. In his famous Fihrist, Ibn al-Nadim (d. 380/990) had already vast
numbers of titles to report on, but there was no real reason for him to sense,
let alone comment on, too many books. So he concerned himself in his opening
pages with the technical aspects of bookmaking which to him meant handwriting
and scripts in their various forms and historical development. In the century
before l;liijji Khalifah, Tiishkopriiziideh produced a mammoth catalogue of the
sciences, entitled Miftii/J al-sa'iidah. His interest lay in the enormous amount
of what he classified as special disciplines that together constituted the sum
total of written knowledge no longer to be mastered in its entirety; he had
occasion to mention only a limited number of standard works. It is due to
Tiishkopriiziideh's influence that l;liijji Khallfah in his introduction discourses
lengthily on knowledge and its multiple disciplines, instead of book production
as would have been logical. Thus, he misses out on the opportunity to speculate
on the subiect that interests us here most. He remarks, however, in the beginning
that an exhaustive bibliography such as his had become finally necessary,
"because the scholarly disciplines and books are many, and the lives of
individuals are preciously short."
89
In conclusion, let me state that the feeling that there are simply too many
books in the world remains a present-day phenomenon and is left to us not
L
only to ponder but also to try to do something about it, if this is in our power.
Possibly the fate of our civilization depends on it. In medieval Islam, books
as physical objects were valuable since, for the ordinary individual, they were
difficult to obtain and to amass; although plentiful in some locations, they could
be scarce in others. The censorial destruction of books for one reason or another
did occur at times, to the detriment of modern scholarship, but contributed
little to limiting the constant increase in the number of books. The relationship
between knowledge and books remained determined by a fictitious and, from
our point of view, unfortunate distinction between oral and written information.
Again, this did not contribute much to diminishing book production. It did,
however, give some slight encouragement to the age-old tradition that some
type of special secret or sacred knowledge was better left unwritten. Still, in
the face of the pretended belief in the superiority of oral transmission, it was
generally recognized that all knowledge was important and would disappear
without books. This recognition often extended to the realization that all written
materials were valuable and required preservation. The only practical attempts,
however, to regulate, if modestly, the flood of books consisted of the production
of works that were supposed to take the place of all the previous publications
in a given field, and of the composition of handbooks and compendia, but the
value and efficacy of these procedures did not remain unquestioned. Before
the age of printing and modern technology, this was probably the most that
could be done. The Muslim scholars cited here deserve credit for having been
aware, if ever so dimly, of the problems resulting from the overproduction of
books as an unintended by-product of the intellectual flourishing of their
civilization. As it turned out, of making many books there was no end in
medieval Islam, and we have every reason to be glad that this was so.
Notes
1. A good brief survey of contemporary scholarship on all aspects of
bookmaking is by G. Endress, in Grundriss der arabischen Philologie, ed. by
Wolfdietrich Fischer (Wiesbaden, 1983), 1:271ff.
2. While I was working on this paper, the Book Review section of the New
York Times of 20 March 1989 published an essay by Arthur Krystal, "On
Writing: Let There Be Less," dealing interestingly with our subject as reflected
through the ages. Krystal mentions the Ancient Egyptian statement of
Khakheperre-sonbe, which reads in the translation ofW.K. Simpson: "He said:
Would that I had unknown speeches, erudite phrases in new language which
has not yet been used, free from the usual repetitions, not the phrases of past
speech which (our) forefathers spoke." See W.K. Simpson (ed.), The Literature
of Ancient Egypt (New Haven and London, 1972, 1973), pp. 230-33. This should
48 Rosenthal
not be understood as a complaint about the existence of too much literature.
Rather, it is an expression of the author's desire to be original. Expectedly,
the modern plea for fewer books elicited heated responses among the essay's
readers, as shown by letters to the Book Review of 30 April 1989, p. 5.
3. An exception is Michael V. Fox, Qohelet and his Contradictions
(Sheffield, 1989. Bible and Literature Series 18), p. 311. I am grateful to Robert
R. Wilson for bibliographical guidance through the vast ocean of biblical studies.
4. Cf. R.B.Y. Scott's commentary on Ecclesiastes in the Anchor Bible
(Garden City, NY, 1963).
5. Fox, op. cit., 237.
6. According toM. Dahood, cf. H.L. Ginsberg, Koheleth (Tel Aviv 1961),
p. 139.
7. Osweld Loretz, Qohelet und der Alte Orient (Freiburg-Basel-Wien, 1964),
p. 139.
8. Cf. Ginsberg, Joe. cit.; Michael Fish bane, Biblical Interpretation in
Ancient Israel (Oxford, 1985), pp. 30-32; Fox, op. cit., p. 328f.
9. The presence of a possessive pronoun, which strengthens the meaning
of collecting, would hardly be needed or fit into the syntax of Eccles. 12:12.
10. It seems as yet undecided whether harbeh (=Aram. Saggi) is used here
as an adjective or as an adverb (cf. J. Goldin, "The end of Ecclesiastes," in
A. Altmann, ed., Biblical Motifs [Cambridge, 1966], pp. 135-58.) The adverbial
combination, lit., "the much making of books," appears preferable. In Semitic
languages there is no easy distinction between "much" and "too much." Thus,
harbeh in Eccles. 7:16 is translated by Ginsberg "don't overdo," cf. his The
Five Megilloth (Philadelphia,1969), p. 68.
11. Cf. for instance Mul).ammad ibn al-Ral).man al-Sakhiiwi, al-l)aw' al-
lami' li-ahl al-Qam al-Tasi', 12 vols. (Cairo, 1353-55/1934-36), 9:259, "lahija
bi-(alab al-l;adith wa-al-qiril' ah."
12. See above, n. 6, and M. Dahood, "Canaanite-Phoenician influence
in Qoheleth," in Biblica 33 (1952), p. 219.
13. According to the publication of A. Sperber, The Bible in Aramaic, 4
vols. in 5, (Leiden. 1968), 5:167.
l
14. Cf. W. Strothmann (ed.), Kohelet-Kommentar des Johannes von
Apamea (Wiesbaden, 1988. Gottinger Orientforschungen, I Reihe: Syriaca, Band
30), p. 182. It is, however, not surprising to find huggaya "meditation" as a
translation of lahag, cf. W. Strothmann, Kohelet-Kommentardes Dionvsius biir
Salibi (Wiesbaden, 1988, Band 31).
15. I am greatly obligated to M. Ullmann for communicating to me his
Worterbuch entries for lahjah. They seem to leave doubts in his mind as to
the relationship between the root l-h-j and lahjah.
16. Fox, op. cit., p. 328.
17. Cf. G. Vajda, Deux Commentaires Karai"tes sur l'Ecclesiaste (Leiden,
1971), pp. 61, 75.
18. Abu al-Barakat Hibat Allah al-Baghdadi, al-Mu'tabar, 3 vols.
(Hyderabad, 1357-58/1938-39), 2:347, line 12ff. I owe this reference to Moshe
Perlmann.
In the following generation, Moses Maimonides interpreted the Mishnaic
expression "heretical books (sefarim hitsonim) as including books on history
and adab which constitute a waste of time, cf. his commentary on the Mishna
Sanhedrin, X, 1, ed. J. Qafih (Jerusalem, 1934), p. 210.
19. Ibn Khallikan, Ubfayiit al-a 'yiin, 8 vols., ed. Il)san 'Abbas (Beirut,
1968-72), 1:20.
20. Cf. al-Iji and al-Sakhawi as quoted in F. Rosenthal, A History of Muslim
Historiography
2
(Leiden. 1968), pp. 242ff., 388.
21. Cf. Murta<;la al-Zabidi, /t/Jiif al-Siidah, 10 vols. (Cairo, 1311/1893).
Reprinted in Beirut, 1:273, line 14ff.
22. Cf. al-Sakhawl, l)aw', 10:21. The number 300 appears again in
connection with al-Khiraql's See The Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd
ed. (EP), s.v Hanabila, 3:159, col. 1, line 30 and again s.v. al-Khiraki (H.
Laoust), 5:10, col. 1, line 23, but, of course, other figures appear as well. In
all cases, it can be assumed to have been a boast about the large number of
sources consudted.
23. Cf. Ibn Khaldiin, Muqaddimah, tr. by F. Rosenthal, 3 vols. (New York,
1958; Princeton, 1967), 2:455. See below, p. 43.
50 Rosenthal
24. See the most useful dissertation by Peter Freimark on Das JVrwort
als literarische Form in der arabischen literatur (Munster, 1967). Writing on
Latin Prose Prefaces (Stockholm, 1964, Acta Universitatis Stockholmianiae,
Studia Latina Stockholmiana 13), Toe Janson apparently found nothing in his
material on the overwhelming amount of available books on a given subject,
nor did Freimark in Arabic.
25. Murta<;la al-Zabidi, lt/Jiif, 1:274, line 12f.
26. Al-Sakhawl, l)aw', 2:180, line 4 from bottom.
27. Al-GhazzaH, l/Jyii' 'ulum al-din, 4 vols. in 2 (Cairo, 1372/1953), 1:70,
line 4ff., from Abu Talib al-Makkl, Qutal-qulub, 2 vols. (Cairo, 1310/1892),
1:159; 4 vols. in 2 (Cairo, 1351/1932), 2:37.
28. See, for instance, Ibn 'Abd al-Barr, Jiimi' bayiin al-'ilm, 2 vols., (Cairo,
n.d.), 1:69f.
29. Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyah, al-Turuq al-/Jukmiyah (Cairo, 1372/1953), p.
277.
30. Abu al-Barakat Hibat Allah al-Baghdadi, al-Mu'tabar ji al-hikmah,
3 vols., (Hyderabad, 1938-39), 1:3.
31. See below p. 000.
32. al-Khatib al-Baghdadi, Taqyid al-'ilm, ed. Youssef Eche (Yiisuf
al-'Ishsh) (Damascus, 1949, reprint 1975), pp. 136-38.
33. Some trickery might be used by a rare book dealer, in order to raise
the fee for lending a book to what the price of the entire book should have
been, cf. al-Sakhawl, l)aw', 9:148. The owners of lending libraries as a rule
would seem to have been honest and often generous.
34. Here follow verses attributed to al-Sari ibn Al:lmad al-Kindi, i.e., al-
Sari al-Rafta'. They are not included in the 1355/1936 and 1981 editions of his
diwiin They deal with the widespread topos of the lasting value of all knowledge
and have little to do directly with the subject of books.
35. Cf. also, for instance, Ibn l:fazm, Mariitib al-'uliim, in Anwar Chejne,
Ibn Hazm (Chicago, 1982), text, 234, trans., p. 202f. Ibn l:fazm also called
it an error to decry the amassing of books.
l
36. already discussed at length the "pleasure" of spending money
on books, if it was done for the sake of scholarship and not for purposes of
religious ostentation as, he claims, was done by the Manichaeans. Cf. Kitiib
al-l;layawiin, 7 vols., ed. 'Abd al-SaU'im M. Hiin1n (Cairo, 1938-45), 1:56.
See also Ibn J:lazm, Joe. cit.
37. Cf. J. Schacht and M. Meyerhof, The Medico-Philosophical Controversy
between Ibn But/an and Ibn Ridwan of Cairo, Arabic text 5 (Cairo, 1937), p.
38, from Ibn Abi F. Rosenthal, "Die arabische Autobiographie,"
Studia Arabica I (Rome, 1937, Analecta Orientalia 14), p. 22, from the
manuscript of Ibn Ri<;lwiin's autobiography. The eighteenth-century Murta<;la
al-Zabidi, lt]Jiif, 1:66, lines 15-67, line 11, still found the passage interesting
enough to quote it.
38. Cf. YoussefEche, Les Bibliotheques arabes (Damascus, 1967), p. 250.
Selling books "by the lot (bi-al-'adad)" from a bookseller's estate might have
been necessitated by their large numbers but, above all, indicated general
ignorance and a lack of discrimination by potential buyers, cf. al-Sakhiiwi, l)aw',
3:150, line 6. An ignorant (mutakhallif?) son of Ibn Yiinus would sell the books
and works of his father left to him "by the pound (bi-al-ar(iil)," cf. AHMadi,
Wiift (Stuttgart, 1988. Bibliotheca Islamica 6u) 21:226, line 8.
39. Cf. Eche, op. cit., 104 from Yiiqiit, lrshiid al-arib, ed. D.S.
Margoliouth, 7 vols. (Leiden-London, 1907-27), 1:242; ed. A.F. Rifii'i, 20
vols. (Cairo, 1355-57/1936-1938), 4:6.
40. Eche, op. cit., 198, from al-Qifti, Ikhbar al-'ulamii' bi-akhbiir
al-]Jukamii', ed. J. Lippert (Leipzig, 1903), p. 269.
41. The justification for book burnings was probably always sought in lese-
religion. The sad case of a grandson of 'Abd al-Qiidir al-Jiliini, 'Abd al-Saliim
ibn 'Abd al-Wahhiib (548-61111154-1214), whose books on magic and star
worship were publicly burned, illustrates the blend of personal, academic, and
religious politics with suspicions of heresy that could lead to legal proceedings
and autodafes, cf. Ibn a!-'Imad, Shadhariit al-Dhahab, 8 vols. (Cairo,
1350-51/1931-32), 5:45f.
42. Cf. al-Sakhiiwi, l)aw', 3:32, line 17.
43. Cf. Ibn J:lajar, lnbii', 9 vols, (Hyderabad, 1387-96/1967-76), 7:394,
anna 823, quoted by al-Sakhiiwi, l)aw', 3:31.
52 Rosenthal
44. Cf. Eche, op. cit., 188, following Yaqut, Irshad, ed. Margoliouth,
6:235; ed. Rita'!, 27:59f.
45. See ibn al-Jama'ah, below, p. 42. (regarding the attitude towards the
disapproval of writing books.)
46. Cf. Ibn Qayyim al-Jawzfyah, al-Turuq al-}Jukmiyah, pp. 275-77.
47. Cf. Yaqut, /rshad, ed. Margouliouth, 5:386ff.; ed. Rita'!, 15:16, 9:21ff.
48. l:la.iif Khalifah, Kashfal-'1-unun, ed. Serefettin Yaltkaya, 2 vols. (Istanbul,
1945-47), vol. 1, intro., col. 52b, quotes the section of Kuna from Ibn 'Asakir's
History of Damascus as using dafotir in connection with Sufyan al-Thawrf
(below no. 52). Although historically, daftar had different meanings (see EJ2,
s.v. "Daftar" [B. Lewis]), in our context "notebooks" is intended. It need hardly
be stated expressly that the range of meanings of Arabic Kitiib is not coextensive
with our "book."
49. According to al-Khapo al-Baghdadf, Tiirikh Baghdad, 14 vols., (Cairo,
1349/1931), 8:348, line 2f., Dawud al-Ta'f did so after he felt sure that he no
longer needed the books and w.ls ready to devote himself conclusively to solitary
divine worship.
50. Mention of the mountain cave is not found in the biographical notices.
They say that he buried his books, with unhappy results for the reliability of
his traditions. See al-Bukhari, Tiirikh, 8 vols. (Hyderabad,1360-78/1941-58),
4 pt. 2:385; Ibn Abf I:Iatim al-Razf, Jarh (Hyderabad, 1941-53), 4 pt. 2:218
on the authority of his father Abu l:latim al-Razi; al-Dhahabf, Miziin al-ftidiil,
4 vols. (Cairo, 1382/1963), 4:162; Ibn l:lajar, mhdhib al-tahdhib, 12 vols.
(Hyderabad, 1325-27/1907-9), 11:408. This does not necessarily indicate that
al-Tawi)fdf invented the mountain cave for artistic effect-he could have found
it in some other source-but it is quite likely.
51. Abu Sulayman al-Daranf was an authority of Ibn Abf al-I:Iawarf (below,
no. 61), who was a contemporary of Sufyan al-Thawri.
52. I have not gone through the large literature on Sufyan to find out whether
this information is repeated elsewhere.
53. The text has Mui)ammad, but he is presumably Abu Sa'fd's son Abu
Mul)ammad ibn al-I:Iasan (whose name is occasionally distorted), see Ibn al-
Nadfm, al-Fihrist, p. 62f., also 31, line 23, as well as Bayard Dodge's English
translation, 2 vols. (New York, 1970), 1:136, and the Persian translation by M.
Ri<;la Tajaddud (Teheran, 1343/1965), p. 106; 'All ibn Yusuf al-Qifli Jnbiih al-
ruwiih, ed. M. Abu al-Fadllbrahim, 4 vols. (Cairo, 1369-93/1950-73), 1:314;
Ibn Khallikan, Wafayiit, ed. I!)san 'Abbas, 2:79; Sezgin, GAS, 9:98; al-Sirafi's
long biography in Yaqut, Jrshiid, ed. Margoliouth, 3:48-125; ed Rifa'I,
8:142-232, draws on al-Tawi)Idi's works, but the request to have his books burned
is not mentioned there. On Abu Sa'Id al-Sirafi, see also, more recently, G.
Endress, "Grammatik und Logik" in Burkhard Moisisch (ed.), Sprach-
philosophie in Antike und Mittelalter (Amsterdam, 1987, Bochumer Studien
zurr Philosophie 3).
54. Ibn Sa'd, Tabaqiit, ed. E. Sachau and others, 9 vols. (Leiden, 1904-40),
4:63, lines 17ff.; al-Khatib al-Baghdadi, mqyid, p. 61; Ibn 'Abd al-Barr, Jiimi'
bayiin al-'ilm, 1:67, etc.
55. Taqyid, p. 39, line llf. Ibn Mas'ud was put on the spot for transmitting
a i)adith differently from what his son had written down.
56. Taqyid, p.62.
57. Ibid. Yunus ibn 'lsa was an authority on Bishr al-l:lafi.
58. Ibid.
59. Taqyid, p. 63. According to Ibn l:lajar, mhdhib, 1:445, Bishr disliked
the transmission of i)adith and therefore buried his books. AbU Nu'aym has
nothing on the subject.
60. Ibid.
61. Abu Nu'aym, l;lilyat al-awliyii', 10 vols. (Reprint Beirut, 1387/1967),
10:6f.
62. On the other hand, scholars were considered foolish to brag about
composing works without recourse to relevant literature. Such disregard of their
predecessors meant that they would not know what distinguished their works
from those of others, cf. al-Zarkashi, al-Burhiin ft 'ulum al-Qur' an, 4 vols.
(Cairo, 1376/1957), 1:16.
63. Cf. l:lajji Khallfuh, Kashf, 1:intro., col. 32f. The wish to approach
God (qa$d wajh Allah) was generally accepted goal and precondition for any
successful. study. Without it, collecting books would be useless, see, for instance,
Yusuf al-Balawi, Kitiib alif bii', 2 vols. (Biilaq, 1287/1870), 1:17, line 2f.
54 Rosenthal
64. See al-Sakhiiwl, l)aw', 1:232f.
65. See Ibn Jamii'ah, Tadhkirah (Hyderabad, 1953), p. 30. In the context,
Ibn Jamii'ah mentions al-Khatib al-Baghdiidl, but the quoted statement is
apparently not included in the reference. In a somewhat shortened form, with
the omission of the qualified and knowledgeable persons, the statement is quoted
by l:liijjl Khallifah, l:intro., col. 39. On his own, it seems l:liijjl Khallfah adds
mutlaqan "absolutely (disapproved)." usually referred to the original
composition of books. Cf., for instance, al-Sakhiiwl, l)aw', 1:46, line 19ff.,
on the very learned Ibrahim ibn Khi<;lr: "In spite of his learning, he did not
occupy himself with although he made valuable notes on many books."
Cf. also Ibn l:lajar, al-Durar al-kiiminah, 1st ed., 4 vols. (Hyderabad,
1348-50/1929-31), 3:490; idem, lnbii', 1:184, or al-Sakhiiwl, l)aw', 2:79.
66. One may compare, from a different time and situation, remark
about an ignoramus who progressed from finding fault with works
to condemning the writing of books in general (Kitiib al-lfayawiin, ed. Harlin,
1:19, 37-38).
67. See also below, p. 44.
68. Cf. al-Tawl:lidl, al-lmtii' wa-al-mu'iinasah, ed. Al:lmad Amln and
Al:lmad al-Zayn, 3 vols. (Cairo, 1939-44), 2:194, line 6.
69. Cf. Mez's introduction to his edition of Abullsim, ein bagdiider
Sittenbild (Heidleberg, 1902), viii f.
70. Cf. Yiiqiit, Mu'jam al-buldim, ed. F. Wiistenfeld (Gottingen, 1866-73),
l:llf., trans. WadieJwaideh, The Introductory Chapters ofY"aqut's Mu'jam al-
Buldan (Leiden, 1959), p. 16.
71. Cf. F. Rosenthal, The Technique and Approach of Muslim Scholarship
(Rome, 1947. Analecta Orientalia 24), p. 43a, and idem, A History of Muslim
Historiography
2
, p. 71, n.3.
72. As indicated in the enumeration of items that justify the writing of books,
see below, n. 87.
73. See Yiiqiit, trans. Jwaideh, p. 9, n. 4.
74. See Yiiqiit, Mu'jam, 1:6, trans. Jwaideh, p. 9. Jwaideh notes that the
statement recurs in the biography of in Yiiqiit, lrshiid, ed. Margoliouth,
6:58, ed. Rifii'l, 16:78.
L
75. Al-TawJ:lldl and Miskawayh, al-l:fawamil wa-al-shawamil, ed. Al:tmad
Amln and al-Sayyid AI:tmad Saqr (Cairo, 1370/1951), p. 268f.
76. Below, in the reference by al-Sha'bi to the common idea that human
life is all too short to know everything, it is not as certain as it is here and
elsewhere that the first aphorism is indeed the inspiration, but it seems highly
probable.
77. This appears to be the correct interpretation of the verse to be
read: .. . wa-lakin naziru al-'ayni. See al-Zarkashl, Burhan, 1:9, 12, quoted in
part by al-Suyfi!i, Itqan, 2 vols. in 1 (Cairo, 1317/1899), 1:5.
78. Cf. Freimark, p. 64, referring to al-Washsha', Muwashsha, for Ibn
'Abbas, and to Ibn 'Abd Rabbih, 'Iqd, for Ibn Slrln. This latter ascription
appears also in al-Baliiwl, Kitab a/if ba', 1:14, line 19.
79. See 'All al-GhuzUH, Ma(ali' al-buditr, 2 vols. in 1 (Cairo,
1299-1300/1881) 1:7.
80. Cf. Freimark, pp. 40ff., 164.
81. Cf. al-Blrunl, al-Athar al-baqiyah, ed. Sachau (Leipzig, 1878), p. 4,
line 5 quoted by Freimark, p. 142.
82. Cf. Ibn al-Athlr, al-Nihayah ft gharib al-}Jadith, 5 vols. (Cairo,
1322/1904), 1:15, line 15f.; 6, line 18; 8, line 15ff.; 9, line 17.
83. Ibn Khaldiin, Muqaddimah, trans., F. Rosenthal, 3:288-91.
84. Op. cit., 3:324.
85. Op. cit., 3:340f.
86. Op. cit., 2:455.
87. Op. cit., 3:287. See 284, n. 1123, for parallels. Ibn Khaldun mentions
the writing of abridgements as the last of the seven justifications for authorship.
Al-Maqarrl, Azhii.r al-riyiuj, 3 vols. (Cairo, 1358/1939), 3:34, puts abridgements
in the sixth place. They were promoted to fourth place in I;Iajjl Khallfah, 1:intro.,
col. 35.
88. I;Iajjl Khallfah, Kashf, 1:intro., col. 43f.
89. Op. cit., l:intro., col. 1. For the allusion to Hippocrates, see above,
n. 76.
l
4
Oral Transmission and the Book in
Islamic Education: The Spoken and
the Written Word
Seyyed llossein JVasr
The revelation of the Qur'an was auditory before becoming crystallized in a
written text. The Prophet first heard the term iqra' and only later recited the
first revealed verses on the basis of their audition. The whole experience of
the Qur'an fur Muslims remains to this day first of all an auditory experience
and is only later associated with reading in the ordinary sense of the word.
There is an ever present, orally heard, and memorized Qur'an in addition to
the written version of the Sacred Text, an auditory reality which touches the
deepest chords in the souls of the faithful, even if they are unable to read the
Arabic text.
Since it is the "Mother of Books" and also the prototype of the written
word in Islam, the oral dimension of the Qur'anic reality, combined with the
traditional significance of memory in the transmission of knowledge, could not
but affect the whole of the Islamic intellectual tradition and educational system.
It could not but enliven both the poetic and the prose memory of the Islamic
peoples, strengthen the significance of oral transmission, and leave something
of its impact upon the very understanding of the book in the context of traditional
Islamic culture. As a result of the influence of the Qur' anic revelation and also
other factors related to the rise of the whole Islamic educational system, the
significance of the oral tradition and memory as a vehicle for the transmission
of knowledge came to complement the written word contained in books,
especially those books which became central texts for the teaching of various
schools of thought and which figured prominently in the relationship between
the traditional master (al-ustiidh) and the students (tulliib).
1
Such books became
more than simply the written text. Rather, they came to accompany and in a
sense became immersed in the spoken word, through an oral teaching transmitted
from master to student and stored in the memory of those destined to be the
recipients of the knowledge in question. Such books were not exclusively written
texts whose reality was exhausted by the words inscribed in ink upon parchment.
57
58 Nasr
The oral tradition also played a cultural role in determining which book
or books of a particular master would become texts to be discussed in study
circles and would act as a vehicle for the transmission of the teachings of the
master in question. The oral transmission helped to establish the authority of
teachers who were to follow and it served as the criterion with the aid of which
one could distinguish one student from another as far as his closeness to the
master and understanding of the latter's message were concerned, although
naturally debates often ensued.
This paper seeks to pursue this theme in one field, namely Islamic
philosophy (al-falsafah), and its close ally in later centuries, theoretical gnosis
(al-ma'rifah or al-'irfon), with which it merged especially in Persia and the
other eastern lands of the Islamic world. Our analysis is based not so much
upon scholarly research, as upon over twenty years of continuous study with
traditional masters in Persia in the field of Islamic philosophy and gnosis,
masters who would mention at the beginning of their instruction that the good
student must learn not only to read correctly the black lines of the text in Arabic
or Persian but that he must also be able to read what they would call "the white
parts" of the page or what in English oould be called reading between the lines.
2
But this reading of the "unwritten" text had to be carried out not according
to the student's individual whim and fancy, but in accordance with the oral
transmission stored in the memory of the master and going back through
generations of teachers to the original author of the text and ultimately to the
founders and major figures of the school in question-fJgUres who also possessed
a "vertical" and non-historical relation with the source of that traditional school.
As far as philosophy and gnosis are concerned, there is also a factor of
a more external order to consider. In order to avoid the criticism and
condemnation of certain exoteric 'ulamii' and also the uneducated who might
misconstrue their teachings, most philosophers couched their ideas in deliber-
ately difficult language whose meaning they then taught orally to their chosen
students. Although there are exceptions in this matter, as one sees in the case
of Mullii Sadrii, the majority of the masters of Islamic philosophy practiced
this art of dissimulation through a deliberately complicated language, the key
to whose understanding remained in the hands of those well acquainted with
the oral tradition which alone could elucidate the meaning or the levels of
meaning of the technical vocabulary

The significance of the oral
transmission was by no means limited to this function, but this role is also of
some importance in the total understanding of the oral tradition and the spoken
word in Islamic intellectual history and education.
Before turning to an examination of the works of individual authors, we
should note that, in the context of the traditional educational system, knowledge
of a particular figure meant and still means a penetration in depth into the thought
of the author in question rather than a study of his thought in breadth. Today,
Oral Transmission and the Book in Islamic Education 59
in the modern Western method of study, if a person wishes to master the thought
of let us say a St. Thomas or for that matter Kant, he goes back to their original
writings in Latin or German and examines all their work. In fact one would
not dream of writing a serious book on a particular philosopher before reading
all his writing. In the traditional Islamic context, on the contrary, the greatest
interpreters of Ibn Slna, whose knowledge of Avicennan metaphysics could not
be matched by anyone in the West, would probably have cast no more than
a cursory eye over his metaphysical works beyond the /lahiyilt of the Shifo.',
the Najilt, and the lshilrilt, not to speak of the mashshii'i master's numerous
other writings. We have seen traditional masters who have spent fifty years
studying the Shifo' and the /shiirilt, often along with numerous commentaries,
and who have had an incredible understanding of Ibn Slna's ontology without
having delved into the many other works of the master dealing with the subject.
In this context it is important also to mention how in a manner that is often
mysterious, if viewed from the outside, one or two works of a master survive
and become a main text in the teaching of a particular school accompanied
by the oral transmission of his teachings, while other works do not enjoy such
a status. The reason in certain cases such as that of Ibn Slna are easy to
understand while other instances are much more difficult to explain. What
distinguished the Tamhid al-qawil' id of Ibn Thrkah or the Kitiib al-hidiiyah of
Athlr al-Dln Abharl from other highly qualified available texts and made the
former main items in the traditional curriculum?
4
Must not the answer be sought
in the spoken word, the oral transmission which accompanied such texts, and
the reception of these teachings by immediate students of the authors in question,
students who then propagated these teachings and established the "privileged
position" of the works in question? Surely the oral tradition along with the
special master-disciple relationship must be considered, not to speak of intel-
lectual and spiritual links between scholars and philosophers of different
generations and the existence of affinities among various figures in the non-
historical and atemporal dimensions of reality which remain outside of the
framework of intellectual history as understood in the West today.
With these brief comments in mind, let us turn to a few of the outstanding
Islamic intellectual figures. The first major Islamic philosopher, al-Kindl,
certainly left his mark upon later Peripatetics but left no work behind which
came to be established as a text in the traditional curriculum of Islamic
philosophy. The towering figure of Ibn Sl!_lii in a sense eclipsed such earlier
figures as al-Kindl and Abu al-l:lasan al-'Amirl., although al-Kindl continued
to be honored in later centuries as a great philosopher. The type of studies
devoted to his writings by both West and modern Muslim scholars, especially
since the discovery of the manuscripts of a large number of his works in Istanbul
60 Nasr
half a century ago,
5
did not exist among those who kept the torch of mashshii'i
philosophy alive in the Islamic world itself, and in fact his particular
interpretation of mashshil'i philosophy did not gain acceptance among later
members of this school, namely al-Fiiriibi, Ibn Sinii, and Ibn Rushd.
Thming to the towering figure of al-Fiiriibi, again one notes that such major
works of his as the Kitiib al-/Juruf remained peripheral to the development of
most of later Islamic philosophy and its significance has only recently been
discovered as a result of the publication of its Arabic text M. Mahdi.
6
Even
al-Fiiriibfs greatest masterpiece of political philosophy, Ara' ahl al-madinah
al-Ja4ilah, although very influential in the genesis and growth of Islamic political
thought, did not become a main text in the later phases of development of the
Islamic philosophical tradition. It was only his somewhat enigmatic work, the
al-/Jikmah, considered by a number of modern scholars to be not by him
but by Ibn Sinii,7 that has continued to be studied and taught over the centuries,
accompanied by an oral as well as a written tradition of commentaries. It was
enough to attend the teaching sessions of Mahdi Iliihi Qumsha'i, one of the
outstanding traditional masters of /Jikmah in Persia in recent times who translated
this work into Persian,
8
to realize the vast "unwritten philosophy" and the spoken
word which have accompanied the written text attributed to al-Fiiriibi.
With Ibn Sinii the presence of the oral transmission, which has survived
for a thousand years, becomes felt more than before for anyone who experiences
the teachings of the traditional masters of mashshii'i philosophy. It is in fact
a profound lesson in comparative philosophy to juxtapose the understanding
of Avicennan ontology by such traditional masters of the subject during this
century as 'Alliimah l:lii'iri Yazdi Mazandariini, author of l:fikmat-i Bu 'Ali,
or Mahdi Hairi,
9
and such Western masters of medieval philosophy as E. Gilson
and H. Wolfson.
10
The difference in their treatment of the subject emanates
not only from different methodologies, but also from the existing oral
transmission in the one case and the simply written text in the other. The oral
transmission did not certainly prevent different interpretations from being made
in the Islamic world itself as one sees in the case of al-Oin Tiisi and
Mir Diimiid, or the Sadrian interpretation of Ibn Sinii made by certain followers
of the school of Mullii Sadrii in the Qajar Period as against the views of a Mirza
Abii al-l:lasan Jilwah.
11
But all of these differences remained within the matrix
of the traditional world with the presence of the oral or spoken word as well
as the written text and therefore differ from the understanding of Ibn Sinii
emanating from the study of only his written words.
There is no doubt that there have been scholars in the West such as Wolfson
or Corbin who had read more of Ibn Sinii than most of the traditional Persian
masters whom we came to know personally. But the latter, who usually limited
their study in depth to the Shifo' and lshiiriit, with an occasional interest in
the Najiit, had an understanding of Ibn Sinii of a different order resulting from
being immersed in an Avicennan world in which the written and the spoken
word were combined in a unity that transcended the simply literal, historical,
and grammatical understanding of the written text. It is important to note in
this context that even the brilliant reconstruction of Ibn S!na's "Oriental
Philosophy" by Corbin,I2 based so much on the understanding of the later
Islamic philosophical tradition, must be seen as a part of the vaster world of
Avicennan ontology and cosmology dominated during later centuries by the
two basic texts of the Shifo' and the /shiiriit and not in isolation from them.
Nowhere in the history of Islamic philosophy is the significance of the
oral transmission and the spoken word more evident than in the case of
Suhrawardl, the Master of Illumination (Shaykh al-ishriiq), whose masterpiece
/fikmat al-ishriiq
13
is itself the crystallization in written form of the spoken
word received orally both "horizontally" and "vertically", that is both through
unspecified historical sources and the angelic pleroma of which Suhrawardi
wrote so vividly.
14
Later Islamic intellectual history knew him primarily through
the /fikmat al-ishriiq and to some extent the Hayiikil al-nur while, in comparison,
his other writings, especially the doctrinal works al-Talwi}Jiit, al-Muqiiwamiit,
and al-Mashiiri' wa-al-mutiirahiit,
15
remained more or less neglected by most
later philosophers, Mulla Sadra again being an important exception.
The whole nexus between the /fikmat al-ishriiq, written so rapidly towards
the end of its author's tragic life, and the later tradition of ishriiqi philosophy
relies upon oral transmission and the spoken word. The figure who revived
Suhrawardl's thought a generation later through his masterly commentary on
the /fikmat al-ishriiq, namely Mul:tammad Shahrazurl, had not known
Suhrawardl personally.
16
Yet he was bound to the master not only by the written
text of his works, but also by a spiritual and intellectual bond which definitely
must have issued from a living oral tradition. In reading Shahrazurl's
commentary on the /fikmat al-ishriiq as well as his own masterpiece, the as
yet unpublished al-Shajarat al-iliihiyah, one feels as if Shahrazurl had sat at
the feet of Suhrawardi for many years. What relates the two figures to each
other is not only a written text, but also the spoken word or an "unwritten
book" which delineated the universe of ishriiqi wisdom shared by both figures.
There must have been a special oral teaching which accompanied the /fikmat
al-ishriiq surviving Suhrawardl and surfacing later in the works of Shahrazurl
and Q u ~ b al-D!n Shirazi and even during later centuries in the writings of Jalal
al-Dln Dawanl and Mulla Sadra. How could Mulla Sadra have written his
glosses (Hiishiyah) on the /fikmat al-ishriiq
11
without an oral tradition which
linked him beyond the written words of the text to the founder of the School
of Illumination? This continuity is what in fact characterizes an intellectual
tradition which unfolds over the centuries on the basis not only of what the
founding figure has written but also of the oral tradition which he has left behind,
a tradition which remains alive through both the "vertical" renewal of the
62 Nasr
tradition and the ever present oral transmission, which in turn makes possible
successive crystallizations of the doctrines and teachings in question in written
form.
The crucial role of oral tradition is also evident in the case of Ibn Arabi
whose influence swept over the Islamic world shortly after SuhrawardL How
different the intellectual history of at least the eastern lands of Islam would
have been if the Ibn 'Arabi of the Futii}Jiit al-makkiyah had become better known
than the Ibn Arabi of the FU$U$ al-IJikam, especially as interpreted by Sadr
al-Din Qunawl!
18
Of course the Futu/Jiit was known to many authors but not
as a whole. Rather, to quote a leading authority on the Furu}J.at, M. Chodkiewicz,
the work served "as an overflowing cornucopia of symbols, technical terms
and ideas from which everyone picked his choice."
19
In any case it was
providential that the Fu$U$ seen through Sadr al-Din's interpretation, itself based
upon the closest intimacy with Ibn 'Arabi, became the central work associated
with Ibn 'Arabi and seen primarily as a text of theoretical gnosis which had
the profoundest influence upon not only Sufism but also later Islamic philosophy
and even theology, as we see in the case of Shah Wallallah of Delhi. Outside
the circle which became heir to the Akbarian current of Sufism, Ibn Arabi
came to be viewed not so much as the master of practical Sufism and the
Slum ... ah andfiqh interpreted esoterically in the Furu}J.at, but as the metaphysician
of the Fu$U$ seen through the eyes of Qiinawl, Mu'ayyid al-Din Jandi, 'Abd
al-Razzaq Kasham, and others.
20
Even the most characteristic doctrine associated
with Ibn 'Arabi, namely wa/Jdat al-wujUd, derives from the teachings of his
disciples and the oral teachings which must have accompanied the FU$U$ rather
than from Ibn Arabfs own written works. We do not know what Ibn Arabi
taught Sadr ai-Din and others orally, but we do know how Sadr al-Din interpreted
the written text of the master in the light of those oral teachings and it is this
which is of significance as far as the oral teachings of Ibn 'Arabi are concerned.
The Ibn Arabi seen by centuries of Islamic metaphysicians and
philosophers is not the same as the Ibn 'Arabi who emerges from a scholarly
study of all his \\-Orks put alongside each other and without recourse to the
oral teachings received from a living master. The whole difference between
the Ibn 'Arabi seen by Kashani, Mulla Sadra, al-Nabulusi, or Isma'n l:laqqi
and the one seen by modern scholars, whether they be Westerners or Muslims,
but basing themselves solely on the extant texts, is again the spoken word, the
oral tradition as it has been transmitted over the centuries by generations of
masters, some of whom have claimed direct contact with Ibn 'Arabi in the
"invisible \\-Orld" ('iilam al-ghayb) besides being heirs to the historical oral
tradition of his school.
Whether current Western scholarship accepts the authenticity of this oral
tradition or not is of secondary significance. What is most important is that
the Islamic intellectual tradition itself has functioned with the belief that the
oral tradition is of central importance. In the case of Ibn Arabi, for example,
such recent masters as 'Allamah Tabataba'l or Sayyid Mul).ammad
with both of whom we studied gnosis and philosophy for some twenty
years,2
1
would insist that it was of little use to simply read the text of the
and understand the Arabic by oneself. Rather, it was necessary to study it with
a real teacher who could also impart to the qualified student the oral tradition
which alone can clarify the meaning of the written word. That is why in gnosis,
as in philosophy, a person who is said to have really studied the subject is called
ustiid didah, literally one who has "seen" a master, that is, one who has
benefitted from the oral teachings and also the presence (}Juqur) of the master
who embodies those teachings and who renews and revives them through the
very act of living their truths.
Turning to later Islamic philosophy, we see the same principles at work
as in earlier centuries. The Shar/J al-ishiirflt of al-Din Tiisl caused the
revival of the school of Ibn Slna. But later traditional philosophers did not
consider this work to be solely the product of the exceptional intellectual powers
of al-Dln but also the result of the oral transmission of teachings which
Tiisl received through several generations of masters stretching from Ibn Slna
to himself. As for the Shar/J al-ishiiriit,
22
it in turn became a main item of the
later philosophical curriculum taught by generations of teachers going back
to Tiisl and his circle in Maraghah where he imparted oral teachings to
accompany this exact and exacting philosophical text.
After Tiisl, numerous works inspired by the Avicennan or mashshii'I school
appeared in both Arabic and Persian including the encyclopedic work of Qutb
al-Din Shlriizl, the Durrat al-tiij. But it was again one work, the Kitiib al-hidilyah
of Athlr al-Din Abhar1, which became a popular text in educational circles in
Persia and was taught and commented upon by many teachers both orally and
in writing. One needs only to recall the Shar}J al-hidiiyah of Mulla Sadra which
gained so much popularity in India that it became the main text for the teaching
of mashshii'I philosophy in the subcontinent and gradually came to be known
as $adrii. When students claimed to have studied $adrii, they did not mean
that they had studied the various works of Mulla Sadra,
23
but the single text
of the Shar/J al-hidiiyah which was again accompanied by an oral teaching.
The selection of Abhan's original work in philosophical circles, as well as Mulla
Sadra's later commentary, was based not on the texts alone of these works,
but on the accompanying oral teachings and the later masters who were well
versed in those teachings and therefore chose to teach those texts rather than
numerous other works which were also available.
The same truth holds for the writings of Mlr Damad, Mulla Sadra, and
later philosophers. Whether it was the Qabasiit of Mlr Damad or the Asfor
of Mulla Sadra, an oral teaching always accompanied the written text.
24
In the
case of these later figures, the chain of transmission of the oral teachings is
64 Nasr
much better known. For example, such an undisputed master of the school of
Mulla Sadra as Sayyid Abii al-I:Iasan Qazw1n1, with whom we again had the
privilege of studying the Asfor for many years, could trace his teachers back
through the Qajar masters of this school to MulHi Sadra himself and displayed
an almost "personal" relation to him as if the tv.u were not separated by four
centuries of human history. In his presence one felt that his link with Mulla
Sadra was not only the lithographed edition of the Asfor which he would hold
in his frail hands and read before expounding his commentary and explanation.
It was also a common universe of discourse and a lived and experienced
intellectual reality which he shared with the Safavid master through the unwritten
yet very much alive word, through the spoken truth transmitted orally as well
as the written text from which he read. That was why, when he held the book
before his shining eyes and read it, the book revealed another dimension of
its meaning, one which would remain hidden if one were to turn to the text
oneself without the help of the oral teachings.
25
The reality of the oral tradition constitutes the reason why the line of
transmission of traditional Islamic philosophy is nearly as important as the
silsilahs of the Sufis. In the latter case a barakah and initiatory power are
transmitted which alone allow the soul to ascend to the higher levels of being,
while in the former it is an oral teaching which is the necessary concomitant
to the written text, a complement without which the text does not reveal all
of its meaning save in exceptional cases. In both instances, there is a truth to
be transmitted which is not simply discursive and which cannot be exhausted
in letters and words written upon the page, a truth which must remain in part
oral to be transmitted to those prepared to receive it.
Although the subject of this essay is limited to the field of Islamic
philosophy, it is not possible to speak of the oral tradition and the spoken word
without saying a few words about the distinctly Sufi view of the subject. This
view was shared in part by many later Islamic philosophers (jaliisifah) and by
those whom we might call theosophers (l]ukarnily-i iliihf) those thought to be
distinguished from what philosophy has come to mean for the most part in
the West today.
One cannot speak of the spoken word without mentioning that primordial
"book" which is inscribed in the very substance of our being and with which
the Sufis have dealt more directly than the Islamic philosophers. Jalal al-Dln
Riim1, whose Mathnawi alone consists of six long volumes of poetry, says:
The book of the Sufi is not black lines and words,
It is none other than the whitened heart which is like snow.
In the Islamic tradition the heart is the seat of the intellect and the instrument
par excellence of original knowledge of which mental activity is a relatively
l
externalized reflection. True knowledge is the knowledge of the heart, and it
is here that man carries within himself the real "book" of knowledge. This
"book" is composed of unwritten words. It is the inner chamber wherein the
spoken word in the highest sense of the term, which means none other than
the Word of God, reverberates. This inner "book" is not available for all to
"read", for not everyone is able to penetrate into the inner chamber of his or
her being, which is the heart, nor possesses a purified heart as white as the
snow which has not as yet become sullied by the darkness of man's passionate
soul.
Yet, this inner "book" has resonated and still resonates within the being
of certain men and women and through them has left its deepest effect upon
the intellectual life of Islam, not only in the domain of theoretical Sufism but
also in later Islamic philosophy. It manifests itself directly in many illuminative
passages of a philosopher such as Mulla Sadra who often refers to such crucial
pages of his works as ta/Jqfff" 'arshi, that is, "truth verified through the
Throne", the Throne being not only the Transcendental Throne of God but also
the heart which is 'arsh al-ra/Jmim or Throne of the CompassionateP
The significance of the oral tradition, its continuation over the centuries,
its "vertical" renewal by certain masters of a particular school, and the emphasis
upon the memory to preserve the oral tradition are all affected by the reality
of that other inner "book" to which Rumi refers, a "book" whose reality has
always subsisted in the firmament of Islamic intellectual life at whose center
stands the Book, namely the Qur'an which is at once an oral and a written
reality. One must never forget that to know something really well and to committ
the spoken \IDrd to memory in an abiding manner is to know it by heart. It
is this knowledge by heart
28
which has made possible, not only in Sufism but
also in Islamic philosophy, the continuation of an ever-renewed oral tradition
which has played such an important role in the Islamic education system and
the modality of the transmission of knowledge from teacher to disciple over
the centuries.
The oral tradition has affected the manner of reading and interpreting the
written text, its teaching and transmission, and the role of certain texts and
commentaries in the educational circles of the Islamic \IDrld. It is even
significant in the correct reading of a particular manuscript and in the selection
of manuscripts for establishing the text of a particular work. The spoken word
is the key to the solution of many enigmas concerning the continuity of certain
teachings as in the already mentioned cases of the ishriiqi school and the
predominance of a particular interpretation over others as in the case ofSadr
al-Dfn Qunawf's interpretation of Ibn 'Arabi. The oral tradition also provides
a direct link between the student and a master who might have lived generations
66 Nasr
ago, enabling the student to study the teachings in question in depth and to
concentrate on one or two oorks which are then penetrated inW<trdly over a
whole lifetime rather than to study horizontally the text of many oorks written
by the same master. There have been exceptions such as Mulla Sadrii., who
had, in addition to oral instruction, an encyclopedic knowledge of earlier
theological, and mystical works ranging from al-Farii.bl, al-
'Amirl, and Ibn Slnii. to Shahrastii.nl, Fakhr al-Din Razl, al-Ghazzii.ll, and Ibn
'Arabi, a knowledge which he combined with the oral tradition.
29
But usually
the oral tradition and the spoken word created a different type of intellectual
ambience from the modern one, an ambience in which one or two works
surrounded by a vast oral commentary came to constitute knowledge in depth
of the teachings of the traditional authority.
The oral tradition transfOrmed the written book from the definitive text
which was the sole basis of the ideas to be understood to the gate to a whole
living world for which the book became the point of departure. We recall once
when studying al-Insiin al-kiimil of 'Abd al-Kanm al-Hll with the late Mahdl
Ilii.hl Qumsha'l, he read the Arabic text and then gave a long discourse on divine
love and its manifestations which seemed to have little connection with the
outward meaning of al-Hil's words. When asked how these words conveyed
such meanings, he answered that one should look at these words as signs to
the spiritual world and not in their usual literal meaning and as concepts closed
in upon themselves. He added that only by becoming fumiliar with these words
through understanding the traditional oral commentary upon them would one
be able to fly with their help from the earth of literalism to the heaven of
symbolism. The nexus between oral tradition and esoteric interpretation of
gnostic and philosophical texts must not, however, detract from the outward
meaning and diminish the role of oral tradition in enabling the written text to
be read correctly, albeit outwardly. The traditional masters insist that the major
texts of Islamic thought such as the /shiiriit or Asfor cannot in fact be "read"
correctly without the help of oral tradition, hence the central importance of
having studied with a master. In a sense the spoken word makes possible the
full understanding and correct "reading" of the written text.
Much of what has been said here is of course to be found mutatis mutandis
in other traditions, such as the cabbala in Judaism, and is not exclusive to Islam.
But in Islam the oral tradition and the spoken oord have played and continue
to play even to this day such a central role that their importance must be asserted
in the face of all the historicism and positivism which have sought to reduce
the reality of the Islamic intellectual tradition to written texts and historically
established influences. Historical studies and careful attention paid to the written
text do of course also possess their own validity and significance but they cannot
become exclusive and totalitarian without destroying the integrity of the Islamic
intellectual tradition.
l
Today not only are the physical remains of the Islamic book in the form
of manuscripts being destroyed in many parts of the world, but also much of
the oral tradition and the spoken word is being lost as a result of the destruction
of the traditional methods of education and transmission. Paradoxically it is
therefore necessary to put into writing for posterity and also for the present
generation much that was transmitted until now only "from the breast" of one
person to another. But in doing so, one should never lose sight of the great
significance throughout Islamic history of oral transmission in education and
of the spoken word as the complement of the written text. Even today, when
due to exceptional historical conditions so much is being recorded and needs
to be recorded and preserved in written form, the essence of the oral tradition
continues to survive as oral tradition, especially that primordial Word which
can only be heard and yet remains eternally inscribed upon the very substance
of our soul as human beings.
NaTES
1. Concerning the texts used in traditional curricula of the madrasahs and
in private circles, see, for example, S.H. Nasr, "The Traditional Texts Used
in the Persian Madrasahs," in his Islamic Life and Thought (London, 1987),
ch. 10; M.S. Khan, "The Teaching of Mathematics and Astronomy in the
Educational Institutions of Medieval India," Muslim Educational Quarterly 6
(1989), no. 3: 7-15; and the major study of G. Makdisi, The Rise of Colleges-
Institutions of Learning in Islam and the J#st (Edinburgh, 1981), which contains
a wealth of information on the use of texts in Islamic madrasahs as well as
an extensive bibliography on Islamic education including works on the use of
texts in various schools.
2. On the living tradition of Islamic philosophy in Persia see H. Corbin,
"The Force of Traditional Philosophy in Iran Today," Studies in Comparative
Religion (Winter, 1968), pp. 12-26; S.H. Nasr, Islamic Philosophy in
Contemporary Persia (Salt Lake City, 1972); and T. Izutsu's introduction to
The Metaphysics of Sabzavari, trans. M. Mohaghegh and T. Izutsu (Delmar,
NY, 1977).
3. Books dealing with these technical terms have therefore been always
important and have served as a basis for the exposition of teachers or have
complemented for the student the oral explanation of the master. That is why
books such as the whole class of by 'Abd al-Razzaq
Kashan1 and others, al-1h' rifot of Sayyid Sharif al-Jurjan1, Kashshiif
al-fimun by al-Tuhiiwl, and other works on terminology have been so important
in the history of Sufism and Islamic philosophy. See the still valuable studies
68 Nasr
of L. Massignon, especially his Essais sur les origines du lexique technique
de Ia mystique musulmane (Paris, 1954); J.L. Michon, I.e Soufi marocain AIJ,mad
ibn 'Ajfba et son mi'raj-Glossaire de Ia mystique musulmane (Paris, 1973); P.
Nwyia, Exegese coranique et langage mystique (Beirut, 1970); J. Nurbakhsh,
Sufi Symbolism (London, 1986-); and M. Horten, "Philogogische Unter-
suchungen zur islamischen Mystik," Zeitschrift for Semitistik und verwandte
Gebiete 6 (1928), pp. 57-70. Concerning Jurjanfs Ta'rifot see G. Fliigel (ed.),
Definitiones Sejjid Scherif Ali ... (Leipzig, 1845).
4. On these little-known figures, as far as the West is concerned, see H.
Corbin (with the collaboration of S. H. Nasr and 0. Yahya), Histoire de Ia
philosophie islamique (Paris, 1986), pp. 365 ff.; Corbin, En Islam iranien' 3
(Paris, 1972) pp. 233 ff.; and S.H. Nasr, "Theology, Philosophy and
Spirituality," in Nasr (ed.) Islamic Spirituality-Manifestations (New York,
1991)' pp. 431 ff.
5. Discovered by Massignon and published later by M. AbU Ridah as Rasa' if
al-Kindi al-falsafiyah, 2 vols. (Cairo, 1950-1953).
6. SeeM. Mahdi, Alfarabi 's Book of Letters (Kitab al-IJ,urnj) (Beirut, 1969).
7. See, for example, S. Pines, "Ibn Sinii et l'auteur de Ia Risiilat f u ~ u ~
fi'l-l:Iikma," Revue des Etudes lslamiques (1951), pp. 122-4.
8. See Iliihi Qumsha'i, lfikmat-i iliihi k h i l ~ ~ wa 'amm, vol. 2 (Tehran, A.H.
solar 1345).
9. See, for example, his Hiram-i hastf, ("The Pyramid of Existence")
(Tehran, 1983).
10. Both Gilson and Wolfson have dealt with Avicennan ontology as
expounded by Ibn Sina himself or by later Peripatetics in several of their works,
for example E. Gilson, L'Etre et /'essence (Paris, 1948); and his Avicenne et
le point de depart de Duns Scot from Extrait des Archives d'Histoire Doctrinale
et Litteraire du Moyen Age 2 (1927). As for H.A. Wolfson, see his "Avicenna,
Algazali, and Averroes on Divine Attributes," Homenaje a MillilS-Va/licrosa
2 (Barcelona, 1956), pp. 545-71; and his "Goichon's Three Books on Avicenna's
Philosophy," Muslim World 31 (1941), pp. 11-39.
11. See S.H. Nasr, "The Metaphysics of Sadr al-Oin Shirazi and Islamic
Philosophy in Qajar Iran," in C.E. Bosworth and C. Hillenbrand (eds.), Qajar
/ran-Political, Social and Cultural Change 1900-1925 (Edinburgh, 1983),
I
pp. 177-98; and S.J. Ashtiyanrs introduction to Mulla Mul)amrnad Ja'far
Lahi:jani:, Shar}J risiilat al-11Ulshii'ir of Mullii Sadrii (Tehran, 1%4).
12. See Corbin, Avicenna and the Visionary Recital, trans. W. Trask (Irving,
TX, 1980).
13. See Suhrawardi:, Oeuvres philosophiques et mystiques, vol. 2 ed. H.
Corbin (Tehran, 1977); and H. Corbin, Sohravardi, Le Livre de Ia sagesse
orientale (Paris, 1986).
14. See S.H. Nasr, Three Muslim Sages (Delmar, NY, 1975), ch. 2.
15. Even in contemporary scholarship these works have remained relatively
neglected in comparison with the lfikmat al-ishriiq, edited in its entirety by
Corbin, and his complete Persian works, edited by Nasr. Corbin edited the
section of these works on metaphysics but not those on logic and natural
philosophy. See Suhrawardi:, Oeuvres philosophiques et mystiques, vols. 1 and
2 ed. Corbin (Tehran, 1976-7); vol. 3 ed. Nasr (Tehran, 1977). Recently H.
Ziai has turned to the study of the logic of al-Talwi}Jiit and other neglected
doctrinal works of Suhrawardi: in his Knowledge and Illumination: A Study of
Suhrawardi 's Hikmat al-Ishraq (Atlanta, GA, 1990).
16. See H. Ziai, "The Manuscript of al-Shajara al-llahiyah, A
Philosophical Encyclopedia by Shams al-Din Muhammad Shahrazuri," (in
Persian), lranshenasi 2 (1990), no. 1: 89-108.
17. See H. Corbin, "Le theme de Ia resurrection chez Molla Sadra Shirazi
(1050/1640) commentateur de Sohrawardi: (587/1191)," in Studies in Mysticism
and Religion Presented to G. Scholem (Jerusalem, 1967), pp. 71-115.
18. See J. Morris, "Ibn 'Arabi: and His Interpreters," Journal of the
American Oriental Society 106 (1986), pp. 539-51, 733-56; 107 (1987), pp.
101-19; M. Chodkiewicz, et al., Les illuminations de Ia Mecque (Paris, 1988);
and the major new study of W. Chittick, The Sufi Path of Knowledge (Albany,
NY, 1989).
19. From a paper delivered at the conference on Medieval Persian Sufi
Literature at the University of London in November 1990.
20. See W. Chittick's several studies on Sadr al-Dln al-Qiinawi: and his
students, e.g., "The Last Will and Testament of Ibn 'Arabfs furemost Disciple
and Some Notes on its Author," Sophia Perennis, 4 (1978), no. 1: 43-58;
70 Nasr
and "Sadr al-Dih Qiinawi on the Oneness of Being," International Philosophical
Quarterly 21 (1981), pp. 171-84.
21. On 'Allamah Tabiitaba'i, whose writings are gradually becoming known
in the West, see the introduction of S.H. Nasr to his Shi'ite Islam, trans. and
ed. by S.H. Nasr (Albany, NY, 1975). As for 'A!;i!;lar, unfortunately none of
his works have as yet been translated, but some have been published in the
original Persian and Arabic, for exal_!lp1e, Wa/Jdat-i wujud m ~ badil', ed. with
introduction on the author by S.J. Ashtiyani (Tehran, AH solar 1350).
22. Printed in both Tehran and Cairo (the Cairo edition edited by S. Dunya,
1960; and the Tehran edition without editor, 3 vols., AH 1378), this work has
never been seriously studied by Western scholars of Islamic philosophy, although
many have drawn attention to it.
23. See S.H. Nasr, Ma'ilrif-i isliimf dar jahan-i m u ' i l ~ i r (Tehran, AH solar
1348), ch. 8.
24. On the relation between Mulla Sadra and Mir Damad see S.H. Nasr,
The Transcendent Theosophy of Sadr al-Dfn Shfrilzj (Tehran, 1977), pp. 32-3,
40, 41, and 45-46.
25. S.J. Ashtiyani has traced the intellectual lineage of such figures and
their link with the Safavid masters of the "School of Isfahan" in his already
cited introduction to Lahijani and also in his introduction to Mulla Sadra, al-
Shawilhid al-rububiyah (Meshed, 1967).
26. Mathnawf, ed. R.A. Nicholson (London, 1925-40), ii. 159.
27. See, for example, his Wisdom of the Throne, trans. J. Morris (Princeton,
NJ, 1981), where he refers to such crucial sections as ba!)frah knshfiyah (insight
revealed to inner vision) or qa'fdah mashriqiyah (principle from the source
of illumination).
28. On the traditional significance of the heart as the seat of knowledge
see F. Schuon, L'Oeil du coeur (Paris, 1974).
29. See Nasr, The Transcendent Theosophy . .. , pp. 69 ff.
5
The Book of Life-Metaphors
Connected with the Book 1n
Islamic Literatures
Annemarie Schimmel
"Man is mighty in volume, with him all things are written, but veils and darkness
do not allow him to read that knowledge within himself."' This is not a quotation
from John Donne's Devotions, where a similar comparison is used, but from
Maulii.nii. Jalii.laddln (d. 1273) prose works Fihi mii fthi.
The saying well reflects the close relationship between man and book, for
as Frithjof Schuon once said with a daring comparison, "God became Book
for man [i.e., in the Qur'ii.nj and man must become book for book
in which the secrets of Divine creation can be recognized.
2
Thus, 'All Khan,
an officer and poet at the court of the Mughal emperor Aurangzeb, could
describe himself:
I am like a book, both silent and talking;
The content of my question is hidden in my answer.
3
The Muslims were great book lovers, and the history of libraries in the Muslim
world, from the collections in medieval Baghdad to the famous library of Akbar's
generalissimo 'Abd al-Ral)man Khii.nkhii.nii.n (d. 1627), to mention only one
major example, is well known. Public and private libraries all over the Muslim
world, many of them still uncataloged, give witness to the bibliophilia of scholars
and rulers in bygone times.
4
Most of the collectors would probably have agreed
with Mollii. Jarnl (d. 1492) of Herat:
There is no better friend in the world than the book;
In the house of grief in this time there is no better consoler,
Every moment a hundred kinds of peace come from it
In the corner of loneliness and it never hurts the heart.
5
Classical Arabic literature contains numerous sayings and verses about
books, some of which have been translated into German by J. Christoph Biirgel
71
72 Schimmel
in his article "Von Freud und Leid mit Biichern" (About happiness and grief
caused by books).
6
There, one hears the collectors' laments about the loss of
books due to theft, to fire, or to "book loving" insects. I once found a long
maqiimah in highly polished rhymed prose in praise of a glorious tomcat who
deserved his master's eternal gratitude because he saved his master's library
by catching the numerous mice that were interested in the manuscripts, for
unscholarly purposes? With a comparison that occurs rather frequently, an
Ottoman poet of the sixteenth century sang of his joy in books:
The heart of those who are narrow-hearted like the bud
opens like the rose-
It seems that the book is a hundred-petaled rose in spring!
8
Gesii Daraz (d. 1422), the Chishti Sufi saint of Gulbarga in the Deccan, goes
so far as to describe his book as his beloved:
My book became my beloved -
Thanks to it my pressed heart was opened.
You say: "Lend it to me!"
Has anyone ever lent his beloved [to someone else]?"
9
However, allusions to the actual form of books, let alone descriptions of specific
books, seem to be comparatively rare. One may think of allusions to Qur'an
manuscripts in comparison with beautiful human faces or bodies: Khaqanl (d.
1199) suggests to his beloved to wear red and yellow garments, as the Qur'an
is written in red and gold (for she is as flawless as a Qur'an page).
10
Maulana
Rum! tells in a delightful story how some ants walked across a beautifully
illuminated manuscript and were wondering whether this was a garden with
roses and herbs; then they learned that this "garden" was produced by the pen,
which served the hand, which in tum was depending upon the arm; the arm,
however, relied upon the spirit's command which was inspired by God-thus,
every movement led back to the One and Unique Creator.
11
Yet, in a small group of verses, Persian-writing poets from the fifteenth
to the seventeenth century have composed verses in honor of actual manuscripts.
It seems that such descriptions reflected the book culture at the Timurid and
Mughal courts, and it is certainly no accident that book imagery became quite
prominent during Mughal times. Jam! sings of an album which was probably
made for his patron, Sultan I:Iusain Baiqara:
Before this copy, which is the pleasure ground of intellect and soul,
the eye of reason is bewildered.
It is a cheerful garden filled with roses and odoriferous herbs;
The pages are roses and the lines sweet basil, rl}Jan.
12
The last line plays on the double meaning of riljiin, ri}Jiini, which is not only
"sweet basil", but also a calligraphic style which was used mainly in copies
L_
The Book of Life-Metaphors 73
of the Qur'an and important manuscripts. This pun appears in most Persian
and Turkish writings from the Middle Ages onward.
Perhaps the finest description of an album is found in Abii Talib Kali:m's
(d. 1650) Diwiin. The poet, who lived in Shahjahiin's time, mainly in Kashmir,
describes some albums which were collected by Jahangir and then arranged
for his son Shahjahan after 1628. Calligraphic pages with superbly illuminated
borders alternate with fme miniatures, so that, as he claims, "the tress of the
[long] letter liim in the calligraphy is combined with the tresses of the houri-
like beauties" on the miniatures. It may well be that he speaks of one of the
collections to which parts of the so-called Kevorkian Album in the Metropolitan
Museum belonged.
13
To understand the importance of the metaphors of the book or of writing
in Persian and Persianate poetry, it suffices to look at the numerous poems
with the radif(recurrent rhyme) nawisand, "they wrote" or niwishta, "written,"
or radifs derived from the Turkish root yazmaq, "to write," in Ottoman poetry.
As much as this imagery may appear repetitive, one can yet find delightful
verses by some lesser-la_!own authors, such as the clever comparisons that the
south Indian polymath Azad Bilgriimi (d. 1784) used in his Mir'iit al-jamiil,
"The Mirror of Beauty," to admire his beloved's tresses:
Are these two locks of hair on the whiteness of her cheeks,
Or two marginal columns on the book of beauty?
Or two nights of the t\MJ 'fd that carne together,
Or are these two of the seven mu'allaqllt hung on the Ka'bah
14
Sometimes, poets offer the reader whole lists of books they had perused during
their lifetimes, as did the fourteenth-century North Indian author Mutahhar
Karh (d. 1390), who speaks of Waqidl's historical work, of that is, the
ethical work, Akhliiq-i Nii!firi, and of Abii 'Umar al-Suhriwardl's Sufi
handbook, 'Awiirif al-ma'iirif, along with some others, which makes us
understand what kind of material was used in medieval Indo-Muslim education.
15
Even more sophisticated is a poem by the Urdu poet Wall Deccani (d. after
1707), who describes his state of mind and the beauty of his beloved exclusively
in words that are pen-names of poets such as Firdfisi, "paradisiacal," Jiimi,
"cup-like," Anvari, "most radiant," Shauqi, "longing," and so on.t
6
More frequent, however, are allusions to famous books whose titles can
be used in puns: 'Attar's Man(iq al-(ayr, "The Birds' Language," and Sa'dl's
Gulistiin, "Rose Garden," appear, as is to be expected, mainly in poetry devoted
to spring; Ni:(':amrs Khamsah, the "Quintet," could be connected with the five
senses; the Kashf (either Hujwfrf's Kashf al-maly'ub or Maibudhfs Kashf al-
asriir) appears now and then as opposed to the rational interpretation of the
revelation as is found, according to poetic parlance, in Zamakhsharl's Kashshiif,
the important commentary on the Qur'an. l;liifi:(': offers a good example of this
74 Schimmel
combinationP On the other hand, Ibn 'Arabfs (d. 1240) Fu!fU!f al-}Jikam, "The
Bezels of Wisdom," are used not only in strictly mystical context, but also in
love poetry for the lip of the beloved is likefa!f!f, "bezel," of ruby. Thus, Jamf,
followed by many others, may claim that the life-bestowing lips of his beloved
would be worthy of being described in the chapter about Jesus in Ibn 'Arabfs
Fu!fu!f, for the breath of Jesus quickens the dead as does the kiss of the beloved
that quickens the near-dead lover.
18
Similarly, Jamf can also see the dangerous,
tempting eyes and sweetly smiling lips of his beloved as a commentary on the
Qur'anic verse, "He created death and life" (Surah 67, 2), for while the eyes
kill with their glance, the sugar lips grant new life.
19
It is not surprising that the imagery of the book plays such a central role
in Islamic poetry. The Qur'an itself uses this imagery frequently: We often
hear of the "book of actions" and also of the "kiriim al-kiitibin" (surah 82,
ll), the noble scribe angels who note down man's actions in the books that
will be shown at Doomsday and should therefore not be blackened by too many
SinS.
N i i ~ i r - i Khusrau, the great lsmaili philosopher and poet of the eleventh
century, admonishes his readers:
The soul is a book, thy deeds are like the writing.
Write not in thy soul aught else than a fair inscription.
Write what is wholly good in the book, brother,
For the pen is in thine own hand.
20
Much later, in the mid-eighteenth century, one finds in the Niida-i 'Andalib
of the Delhi mystic N a ~ i r Mubammad 'Andalfb advice which he may have taken
from some earlier Sufi poet, but which he may also have written himself:
I want to correct the nine books
and to select the manuscript of Existence,
to empty the library of the heart
line by line from unfitting letters,
to purify the picture gallery of the body page by page
from the pictures of eating and sleeping,
to transform the black book of the crimes of the lower soul (nafs)
into the first page of the exordium of good works.
21
But how to perform such a purification?
The poets discovered that there is a way to clean the books blackened by
sins, namely, weeping. Most oriental ink is soluble in water, hence, books could
be and have been washed off comparatively easily-and what would be a better
way than to weep so profusely that the tears of repentance wash off the black
writing of the book of actions?
Poets liked this idea, and they often-especially in later times-combined
it with the image of the tear as a child that runs away from the eyelashes. Thus,
the Kashmiri poet Fan! (d. 1670), whose poetry contains a remarkably great
number of writing metaphors, says:
How many copies did our child see and wash off! But due to its confusion
this child "Tear" has never become acquainted with the book.22
The same poet refers to emperor Akbar's device, "Peace with all", and applies
it to the mystical intoxication which makes mankind forget the differences of
religions and sects:
When the old master of the tavern teaches the book "Peace with all!",
One can wash off the pages of the different religious sects with the wine of
taw}Jid, [declaration that God is One].
23
One wonders whether his remark was an answer to Biibii Fighiini"''s (d. 1519)
ghazal in which he had joked:
Fighilni, the saftnah, [notebook, anthology], of your heart is polluted-
Wash off the dust of griefs with wine from the book!
24
In connection, one should remember that the term "book", kitab, is rarely used
for anything but the Qur'iin, or at least a religious, important \\Ork, while books
of poetry are referred to as sajfnah, "boat," that is, a small book stitched together
at the narrow end. Such sajfnah became very popular as anthologies in Timurid
times, and are usually written in delicate nasta'liq script. Often the designation
of a book as daftar occurs, that is, a notebook bound only loosely or consisting
of loose pages.2
5
The religious importance of books is reflected time and again in allusions
to books by mystics and mystically inclined writers. The Prophet of Islam, being
ummi, "illiterate," appears as the one who did not need any book knowledge
but knew everything that had ever been written.
26
Thus, the mystics, too, tried
to find access to the great book of creation and to discover and interpret its
ayat, its signs. Did not God Himself state that He had put His signs "in the
horizons and in yourselves" (surah 41, 52)? Thus, the magister magnus of
theosophical Sufism, the Andalusian Ibn 'Arabi, conceived of the whole cosmos
as a book, readable to the understanding people, and his near-contemporary
in Iran, 'Azlzaddln Nasafi, used the same image, as did many other thinkers
and poets. An additional feature of this comparison was the fact that surah 68
begins with the words, Nitn wa-al-qalam, "Nun, and By the Pen!;' an expression
that lead some Sufis in Ibn 'Arabfs tradition to speculate that the letter nun,
as suggested by its very shape, could be interpreted as the primordial inkwell
that belongs with the primordial Pen that writes on the Well Preserved Tablet
whatever is to happenP
However, the idea that the cosmos or the universe is a book occurs long
before Ibn 'Arabi. Sana'! of Ghazna (d. 1131) writes in his didactic epic, lfadiqat
al-/Jaqiqah:
76 Schimmel
The form of the universe is like a book
in which advice and fetter (pand u band) are together.
Its form is a fetter for the body of the blameworthy,
its qualities are advice for the hearts of the wise.
28
To have understood such advice in the book of the universe was a claim of
numerous mystically inclined writers. Akbar's court poet, Fai:?I (d. 1595),
boasted that he had seen:
One by one the details of the notebook, daftar, of existence and place,
kawn wa-makan,
and table by table the pages of the calendar of the sky.
29
That means, he was able to understand and interpret the astrological chart,
jadwal, which shows how the sphere rules human life.
A century later, Fani offered a fine comparison:
The world is like a book filled with knowledge and justice.
The bookbinder Fate made two volumes of it with t\ID points of return.
The stitching at the back, shiriizah, is the sharrah and the different
religions are the pages:
Tonight we are all disciples, and the Prophet is the teacher.
30
Interestingly, most poets who used book imagery developed a rather pessimistic
worldview, and one is pleasantly surprised when discovering the lines of one
Ashraf, a little known Kashmiri poet in Mughal times:
Everyone who has seen the notebook of the days from top to bottom,
has seen the day between the lines of the nights,3
1
For the book does not only contain the dark and sometimes crooked script of
fate, but also the white background, the days of happiness.
There are also other interpretations of the Book of the Universe. One pun
that is found in hundreds of verses is that on khat(, which means both "line,
script" and "down," the first black signs of a growing beard on the cheeks
and upper lip of a teenage boy.
32
This pun makes it next to impossible to render
into a Western language a great number of Persian and Thrkish verses which
are replete with plays on khau. A fine example are the lines by Zebun-Nisa
(d. 1701), emperor Aurangzeb's gifted daughter, who writes:
I have seen the library of the world page by page-
1 have seen your kha(f and said: "That's the real purpose!"
33
The punning with khat( goes back to much earlier days of Persian poetry and
is used by Sa'di (d. 1292), who addresses a beloved:
0 you: from the booklet of your moral qualities, the /Jusn-i kha(f
["beautiful script" or "lovely down"] is just one chapter,
and sweetness is just one letter from the book of your qualities.
34
As the face was considered to be a book of loveliness, even in a veritable Qur'an
copy, the khat( plays a very special role:
Due to the musk colored kha(( his cheek appeared like the book of beauty,
for the commentator himself has written carefully these marginal notes.
35
The down sprouts by itself, and therefore the poet could think that the black
lines of the down were nothing but the author's commentary of his own book
which he wrote, as is customary, on the margins, that is, the cheeks.
Poets allude to the custom to put a dot on a certain place of a manuscript
to indicate a verse or a single word or letter which should be chosen for its
beauty or elegance:
Sit like the point of selection in the margin of the books of the assembly.
36
Thus Fan! admonishes someone who is very special. One often finds verses
like the following one by Farigh, another Kashmiri poet:
My high nature has selected his stature from out the world;
That means, it has selected the letter alif from this book.J7
The combination of the straight, upright letter alif and the elegant, slender stature
of the beloved is commonplace and can be easily combined with the religious
interpretation of the a/if as pointing to God's Unity and unicity, as its numerical
value is One, and as all the other letters, according to the calligraphic rules
oflbn Muqlah (d. 940), are shaped by measuring the alif, just as Adam was
created "according to His, God's form." l:lafi:?:'s famous verse:
There is nothing on the tablet of my heart but the alif of the friend's stature.
What can I do? My teacher did not give me any other letter to remember,3
8
plays most skillfully on the double meaning of alif and has therefore been
imitated by innumerable poets.
As already mentioned, the comparison of a beautiful face to a book, in
particular to the Qur'an, in whose copies not the smallest mistake must be
seen, occurs often in poetry. That is not only the case in l:lun1fi poetry, where
comparisons of human limbs with letters and the idea of the entire human being
as a divinely written book form the center of the worldview, but also in earlier
and later poetry.
39
Writers who may never have heard of l:lun1fi interpretations
of the letters used such comparisons, for they seemed to be quite natural. Thus,
a poet in the Indus valley, Isma'il Bakhshi, is quoted as having written:
Your face is like a Qur' an copy without any mistake and flaw
which the Pen of Destiny has written exclusively from musk.
The eye and your mouth are verse ... dots for stopping, the eye-brows
a maddah,
the eyelashes signs of declension, the mole and the down letters and dots.
40
78 Schimmel
Such allusions, especially of the eyebrows to the tughrii, of eyes, nose, mouth,
ears, and curls to the individual letters of the alphabet, abound in Arabic,
Persian, and related poetry.
One aspect of the comparisons of beautiful, pure things with the Qur'an
is that the Holy Writ was used for prognostication. Poets made use of this quality
of the Qur'an, too, and could compare Love to a Qur'an from which one might
be able to receive some information about the future. But, as Amir Khusrau
Dihlawi (d. 1325) wrote:
When Khusrau opens the Book of Love for prognostication,
From the first page of grief my story appeared.
41
Frequently, the heart is compared to a Qur'an copy, and the custom to
write the Holy Book in thirty parts,juz', made many a poet think that his heart
is also a collection of thirty parts. Kalim, however, expresses his concern
differently:
I tore my heart to pieces page by page,
For from this book one has rarely seen the prognosis of well-being.
42
The comparison of the heart with the Qur'an leads sometimes to strange
exaggerations. Thus, Mir Dard of Delhi (d. 1786), never exactly modest in his
mystical claims, compares himself in a subtle way to the Prophet, his ancestor,
by remarking:
I am unlettered, but I have a heart
thanks to whose mystical grace, faiz, every letter of mine is a book in the
world.
43
That is, wisdom is poured onto his heart, which thus produces wonderful,
inspired books (he indeed claimed that all his Persian and Urdu works were
written under inspiration).
Two centuries before him, 'Urfi (d. 1591), noted for his grand ambitions,
had claimed:
Every book for which I am the last chapter-
Its first page is the well-preserved Tablet.
44
This, again, sounds rather like a claim if not to prophethood, at least to the
status of the Perfect Man.
However, not every poet used the imagery of the book in this way. More
common, and probably easier to appreciate, are verses in which the garden
is seen as a book, just as books were compared, by earlier writers, to a garden.
Everyone who has studied the elements of Persian is aware of Sa'di's line in
his Diwiin:
Every leaf on the green trees is in the eyes of those who understand
a page from the hook of the Creator's wisdom.
45
Jam! sees the "children of spring" practice the letter alifin the garden,
46
and
Kalim takes up this idea when he says:
Every spring is a child in the school "Garden"
Every bud that ovens becomes his book.
47
The poets in the Islamic world, as elsewhere, loved especially the rose and
saw it as a ~ n d r o u s book with a hundred petals, that is, pages. Most of the
later writers would agree with the Mughal poet Umid:
Umid, speak like the rose of your heart that is in a hundred pieces;
talk about one page, for this book is all blood.
48
The combination of the red centifolia with bloodstained pages that resemble
the bleeding heart of the lover is quite common in later Persian poetry and
is particularly well expressed in Fighanfs lines:
Who washed the booklet of the rose with the spring cloud's weeping?
For every petal is a booklet filled with the blood of the suffering ones!
49
If I understand his train of thought correctly, he means that it was not right
that the rain was washing the roses, as these are signs of the martyrs, those
who died in unfulfilled longing-and according to Islamic law, martyrs' bodies
are not washed before burial.
In earlier centuries, however, the cheerful, or at least delightful, aspect
of the "book Rose" is more prominent:
The rose has made correct its page with dew-
the stamp on this page is all pearls!
50
Thus says Amlr Khusrau, and he continues this line with the remark that the
line, khat(, of greenery is even prettier than this page. Whether he intends the
vernal green in the meadcm or the fresh down on his friend's rose-cheek remains
an open question.
But Fighanl also looks at the saftnah, the anthology, of the heart and wishes
that every page of the booklet might be in the hand of some charming person:
I want that the saftnah of the heart be opened like the rose, page by
page (or, petal by petal},
and that every page be in the hand of some angelic beauty!
51
Is not the "rose of the cheek" a lovely book that contains innumerable love
songs? l:liifJ.Z, as so often, coined the classical fOrmulation of this thought:
Not I alone sing ghawls for the rose of the cheek,
for you have thousands of nightingales on all sides
52
a verse which inter alia contains a fine pun on haziiriin, "thousands" and
"nightingales".
80 Schimmel
The morning breeze opens the "notebook of the rose" to sing of the curls
of the beloved.
53
Thus thinks Am1r Khusrau, and even a nearly contemporary
poet like Iqbal (d. 1938) sees the Creator writing His message on the petals
of the tulip.
54
Persian poets sometimes invented strange metaphors in their spring songs.
One wonders what lead Fan1 Kashm1r1 to compose the verse:
The rose wrote with writing, khart, of greenery in the book of spring:
The cloud of the wine bottle is better than the sun of spring.
55
Does he mean to say that rain would be more welcome than sun at this point
in time, or else does he claim to prefer wine indeed to the radiant sunshine
of a Kashmiri spring day ... ?
Yet, one is not surprised when the nightingales are heard reciting the Man(iq
al-(ayr from the book of the roses,
56
for rose petals can play various roles in
the imagery of the book. They may just be a book filled with mysterious tales,
as in the previous example, or else a book that contains the story of grief:
Every rose petal is a tongue to explain the commentary of grief-
Not in vain does the nightingale lament when it sees the rose.
57
Thus says one of the greatest Turkish poets, Fu:?:iili (d. 1556). One of his
predecessors, Jam1, who influenced him considerably, remarks, however:
I struck together the booklet of the rose like the wind,
because in these pages there is no letter about your beauty!
58
How could one leave intact a book which does not speak of the rose-like cheek
of the beloved? Fan1 even wants to blacken rose petals with the color of the
tulip;
59
he alludes to the black scar on the heart of the tulip which is compared
to the black scar in the suffering lover's heart, from which one can easily produce
a collection of poetry.
To this century, poets have invented comparisons between the book and
the garden; thus, the Egyptian poet Sam1 al-Barud1 (d. 1904) wrote, at the
beginning of this century:
The hand of wind writes letters on the pond that could be read and sung
by birds.
60
Perhaps the finest verses that compare gardens and books are not those in which
birds recite from the booklet Rose, but rather the colorful descriptions of the
autumnal garden. Jiiml sees it as a notebook colored by red and yellow leaves-a
notebook from which the insightful spectator understands that the "white book",
that is, the snow-covered ground, will soon appear.
61
Fu:?:U11 similarly takes
up the radiant colors of autumn, but uses the image ever more ingeniously than
Jam1:
The scribe of Destiny made from the autumnal leaves a golden sprinkling
for the pages of the garden;
Cutting off the stitching, shiriizah, of running water [which held in shape
the book], autumn has confused the pages of the manuscript of the
garden.
62
81
Similarities with books could be discovered in all of nature: An early poet of
Baghdad did not see the garden or flowers as a book, but discovered a book
with lines in the glittering skin of a snake.
63
One often finds a concretion of abstracts in Persian poetry, and almost
"mythical" transformation of material and spiritual objects. An early Persian
poet, Akhsikati, speaks of the "book of poverty",
64
and Maulana Rumi
mentioned "the library of my needs", which the beloved is
to study.
When Sana'i claims:
As much as I read the booklet of the lovers,
Yet, in love of you I am still a beginner who learns the alphabet,
66
he alludes to the fact that love, in its true essence, can never be understood
by studying the books that speak about it, and that everyone has to start again
with a new experience, with new suffering. (d. 1612), the leading poet
of Mughal India, took up the same idea:
Ever so many books and Qur' an copies are the register fOr the chapter
Love-
When you find the real tale, you don't read any page any more!
67
Jami sees it somewhat differently: Although intellectually he wanted to give
up loving, yet, the friend's khau (down, script) seduced him again:
I washed off the book of Love with the management of reason,
But again, your kha{f brought the lesson of the alphabet, abjad, into my
head.
68
The manuscript of Love is usually black-one can combine it with the term
muswaddah, "black copy" (i.e., rough draft). This is so, on the one hand,
because lovers suffer from melancholia, "black liver," and from bakht-i siyiih,
"black fortune," that is, misfortune, but also because this misfortune is caused
by the black tresses and black down of the beloved. Bedil (d. 1721), in good
Sufi manner, gratefully acknowledges that this black manuscript became radiant
when the lesson of beauty was written on it, so that by looking at the friend's
beauty the reader became aware of himself,
69
for the lover is nothing but a mirror
for the beloved's beauty. And one should not forget that even though the book
of Love is black, it need not be afraid of God:
for this sin [that is love] was not written in the account-book, jaridah,
of the [black] tress.7
82 Schimmel
That, at least, is what Faru claims.
Poets might boast of their intimate relation with the primordial book or
with the Book of Love. Thus, an Indo-Persian poet whose name is barely found
in any history of Persian literature! claims:
The title of the books of mystery is our fate [sarnivisht], "what is written
on the forehead"
The exordium of the book of Love is our disposition?'
But many of them were aware that one should never trust the book of Love.
Is it not strange that:
His (the friend's) mole is in the eyes of the rival and the scar of longing
is in my heart-
In the book of love-game the dots have fallen on the wrong places!
Is it right that the rival can study the friend's beauty spot from a close distance
while the poor lover only suffers from the black scars which unfulfilled longing
has stamped into his heart? There must be some ta:j}Jif, a wrong placement
of the diacritical marks, in this strange book!
72
At a rather late stage of Indo-Persian poetry, combinations of the reed pen,
which is used for writing, and the reed mat, buryii, on which the derwish,
the true lover, is supposed to sleep, can be found. The reed, in its different
aspects as pen, as flute, and as sugarcane, had been praised and described in
earlier poetry, but the "Indian style" of Persian poetry abounds in allusions
to the reed mat. Thus, Bedil, the most difficult of the poets who wrote in the
"Indian style," excels here, as elsewhere, in difficult cross references:
You break a hundred reed pens to reach the practice of good behavior, adab:
There are lines in the book of the school of the reed matF
3
For if one sleeps on the reed mat (which was even compared by the poets to
the ruler, mastarah, that is needed for good writing),7
4
the lines of the hard
mat leave their marks on the body and thus "educate" it in proper modest
behavior.
Many poets knew that:
The book of generosity and kindness is a sign, ayah, of Mercy,
But the pages of this book do not come together?
5
For it is hard to find more than a few scattered pages of such books as much
as everyone looks out fur them.
A book, however, should be stitched carefully in order to keep the pages
in the right sequence, and the shiriimh, "stitching," occurs frequently in later
Mughal verse-so much so that 'Abdul Jalil Bilgramf (d. 1743) sees the ''wave
of the khatf' appear as the "shiriizah off the book of Beauty."
76
I
At about the same time, Bedil saw the vein of the rose petal as the thread
of binding for the collection, majmu'ah of life and love, a collection in which
one finds the blackness of, or the passion for, sawdii, the friend's kha((.
71
appears more matter-of-fact when he describes his state:
Your love is the stitching of my parts;
Longing for you is the register, fihrist, of my whole being.7
8
A century earlier, in the Turkish area, had used the idea of "stitching
together" in a somewhat more elegant way:
The true lovers stitch together with the thread of the soul
Every book in which the tale, l:tadith, of your ruby lips is written!
7
9
In the nineteenth century, Ghalib (d. 1869) (who even speaks, in his Urdu verse,
of "looking" as the shiriizah of the eyelashes)
80
invented a fine image:
The story of longing does not fit into binding, alas!
Let this manuscript remain in parts!
81
Iqbal, on the other hand, expressed his philosophy of development and longing
in a related image:
Wish is the stitching for the book of actions-
82
It is only man's burning wish and striving that makes true, useful action possible.
He is thus quite different from his predecessors in whose verses a
melancholy mood overshadows everything, including, and perhaps especially,
images connected with the book:
The sign of cheerful life is not to be found in the pages of this time, dahr-
Someone has made a wrong selection from this book!
83
Poets did not believe much in hope and expectation, and knew from experience
that:
It is not good when a goal is attained;
When the page is complete it is turned over.
84
Probably the most outspoken criticism of the Book of Life comes from Sarmad,
the Judea-Persian convert to mystical Islam, who paid with his life for his daring
and often seemingly blasphemous utterances after his protector, the Mughal
heir apparent Diirii Shik6h, had been executed in 1659. The content of his famous
quatrain turned out to be true:
To trust the promises of humans in the v.orld is wrong.
"Yes": wrong. "Sure": wrong. "Tonight": wrong. "Tomorrow": wrong.
Don't ask how the manuscript of the dlwiin of my life looks;
The script wrong, the meaning wrong, the composition wrong, the
orthography wrong!
84 Schimmel
No, there was no reason in hoping against hope:
Behold my magnanimity: a hundred leaves from the book of Hope have
I torn into a hundred pieces and washed them off with tears of blood!
86
This little-known poet from the days of Emperor Akbar still sees the possibility
of casting away the pages of hope; Ghalib, in nineteenth-century Delhi, is even
less positive:
Future and past are wish and longing,
It was a "\\buld it were!" which I wrote in a hundred places.
Not in a single manuscript was the meaning of the word "hope"
[as much as] I had written the register of the chapters of wishes.
87
What is existence but a strange, often incomprehensible book? What is left to
mankind but tajrid, complete isolation from all created beings, abstaining from
wishes and hopes? Perhaps the most impressive description of a wise person's
attitude comes from Khaqani, whose verse seems unsurpassable in depth and
expressiveness:
I wrote the alphabet of isolation, tajrid, and then, I painted it with the
red and yellow of the [red] tears and [pale] face as though it were
a nashrah [an amulet for children painted in severn! color] .
When I had learned by heart this alphabet, whose beginning is from nothingness,
I forgot the riddle whose title is "Existence"
88
There seems little doubt that this line has inspired one of the famous verses
by Mirza Ghalib who wrote, in his Persian Diwiin:
Death is a letter whose title is "Life."
89
Poets in former centuries often spoke of God the Creator as the master
calligrapher, for they knew:
Creation was not prepared without a creator;
To decomte pages is impossible without the scribe's writing.
90
Thus thought Anvari in the twelfth century. The same concept of the Divine
Scribe, so frequently used in a positive way, as in Maulana Riimfs poetry,
91
is transformed in Ghalib's introductory lines to his Urdu diwiin into a rebellious
outcry of the letters against the Divine Master who put them "in a paper shirt,"
that is, who wrote them the way He wanted, without apparently caring for the
letters' feelings.
92
What, then, do we know about the meaning of the world?
Kalim admits his ignorance about creation and world in his oft-quoted verse:
We do not know anything of the beginning and the end of this world-
The first and last page of this old book have fallen off.
9
3
The mystics had always pretended to be averse to bookishness, and many
of them pretended, also, to follow the example of the "unlettered Prophet,"
---------
or else to know only one letter of the alphabet, that is, alif. But we cannot
deny that they probably wrote more books than those whom they criticized
for their literary and scholarly activities, so that the output of mystical writings
in Arabic, Persian, Turkish, Urdu, as well as the regional languages of Indo-
Pakistan, Southeast Asia, and Africa, seems to have no limits. Yet a book was
only a medium which should be studied under the supervision of a master who
would know what to teach the disciple and how to explain the difficulties, the
inner meaning, according to time-honored and often experiential methods. That
is why one finds numerous remarks, especially among Sufis, against the use
of books. But even Mul)ammad Iqbal, the poet-philosopher of the Indian
Muslims and spiritual father of Pakistan, criticized the reliance on books, be
they philological or scholastic. Is not the Muslim jurisconsult of modern times
who knows only books and does not feel true religious experience like Qan1n?
Under the weight of the dead load of books on Arabic grammar he sinks into
the earth, as did Qan1n under the burden of his useless treasures, instead of
breathing the air of divine Love.
94
In another metaphor, Iqbal juxtaposes the bookworm, which leads a
miserable life in the pages of manuscripts of Fiirabi and Avicenna, with the
moth that casts itself lovingly and longingly into the candle to burn there in
ecstasy.
95
He also coined the fine expression:
Love is umm al-kitiib, "Mother of the Book," scholarship is the "Son of
the book."
96
Love is the primordial basis for revelation, while scholarship is dependent upon
written, that is, second-hand, knowledge.
Long before him, Jami had admonished the reader of his Lawii'i}J:
Strive to lift the veils, not to collect books,
For by collecting books the veils are not lifted.
Where \muld be the joy of love in traversing books?
Roll up all of them, return to God, and repent!
97
Riimi had combined the book and the garden, expressing his pity for those
who look only at books and, as it were, turn themselves into a library:
If you are a library, }UU are not someone who seeks the garden of the soul.
98
For, as he sings in the Mathnawi:
For the lovers, the friend's beauty is the teacher,
his face is the notebook and lesson and instruction for them.
90
For it is the page of the heart that matters:
From the undecorated page of the heart I found
the reality which you seek in books.
100
86 Schimmel
The heart, however, is perfected when it has been polished as a mirror to reflect
the beloved's beauty, which confuses everyone. TherefOre, a minor Mughal poet
sings:
I keep the sheet of the mirror under the arm instead of a book;
I am the child that reads the alphabet in the schoolhouse of confusion.
101
What would be a book when one wants the radiant reflection of beauty? Gesu
Daraz, whose description of the book as beloved we quoted in the beginning,
seems to have changed his opinion and, refuting his own previous statement,
writes in another quatrain:
If you have a book as your beloved,
Then you have something that has a black heart!
God forbid that a book be your beloved-
What kind of friendship with Abyssinians and Barbarians!
102
Maulana Rl1m1 admonished himself in hundreds of ghazals to be silent, and
Mir Dard, more than 500 years later, emphasizes the importance of silence,
so that the true Speaker and Author, God, can speak:
0 you who has wasted this life in debate:
One point of silence is better than a hundred kinds of books!
103
Could any book describe properly what the lover feels?
This notebook has reached its end, but the story still goes on:
One cannot tell the situation of a longing heart even in a hundred notebooks!
104
Thus said Sa'di, and, confronted with the dilemma of wanting to write books
and yet knowing that all of them are but a veil, what can one do except follow
Sana'f's remark:
First I wrote books with effort great-
At last I broke the pen, confused!
105
NarEs
1. Fihi mii fthi, trans. Arthur John Arberry, Discourses of Rumi (London,
1961).
2. "Comprendre l'Islam," in La J-bie des Lettres, ed. Jean Canteins (Paris,
1981), p. 76, note 21.
For the whole problem of calligraphy's influence on the art of the book,
literature in general, and Sufism, see Annemarie Schimmel, Callugraphy and
Islamic Culture (New York, 1984; paperback, 1989).
3. Armaghan-i Piik, ed. Shaykh Mul.tammad Ikram (Karachi, 1953), p. 259.
4. 'Abdul Baqf Nihawandf, Ma'iithir-i Ral]imi, 3 vols., ed. M. Hidayat
Hosain (Calcutta, 1916-1931), is devoted to the Khiinkhanan's political and
cultural activities. For the deplorable decay of such libraries, however, see Aloys
Sprenger, A Catalogue of the Arabic, Persian, and Hindu' stany manuscripts
of the libraries of the King of Oudh, compiled by Order of the Government
of India (Calcutta, 1854, repr. Osnabiich, 1979) 1: x: "The books are kept in
about forty dilapidated boxes-camel trunks, which are at the same time tenanted
by prolific families of rats, and any admirer of Oriental lore who wants to visit
this collection will do well to poke with a stick into the boxes before he puts
his hand into them, unless he be a zoologist as well as an orientalist."
5. 'Abdurral;unan Jami, Diwiin-i kiimil, ed. Hashim R i ~ a (Tehran, 1341
H solar/1962), mbii'i no. 49.
6. J. Christoph Biirgel, "Von Freud und Leid mit Biichern. Gereimtes und
Anekdotisches aus dem arabischen Mittlealter," in Einheit in der Vielfalt,
Festschrift Peter Lang (Bern/Frankfurt/Paris, 1988).
7. Annemarie Schimmel, Die orientalische Katze, 2nd ed. (Munich, 1989),
pp. 87-92. The book lover was Abii Ja'far al-AwsL
8. Latffi, in Elias J.W. Gibb, History of Ottoman Poetry, 6 vols. (London,
1900-1909; repr. London, 1958-63) 6:165.
9. Ikram, Armaghiin-i Piik, p. 161.
10. Af<;laladdin Ibrahim Khaqanf, Diwiin, ed. Z:ia'addin Sajjadi (Tehran,
n.d.), p. 326.
11. Jalaladdin Riimf, Mathnawi ma'nawi, 7 vols., ed. and trans. Reynold
Alleyne Nicholson (London, 1925-40), 4: line 5722ff. The story is found in
Abu l:lamid al-Ghazzali, [/:lyii' 'ulum al-din, v. 4, biib al-tawakkul, "The Chapter
of Trust in God", which is Riimfs source.
12. Jarnf, Diwiin-i kiimil, rubii'i no. 48.
13. Stuart Cary Welch et al. , The Emperors' Album (New York, 1987),
pp. 42-43.
14. Annemarie Schimmel, "Islamic Literatures in India," in History of
Indian Literature, vol. VII, ed. Jan Gonda (Wiesbaden, 1973), p. 46.
88 Schimmel
16. Garcin de Tassy, Les Oeuvres de Wali: publies en Hindoustani (Paris,
1834; traduction et notes, Paris 1838).
17. Diwan, eds. Nadhlr and Jalal Na'ini (Tehran, 1971), p. 75.
18. Jam!, DTwan-i kilmil, p. 470, ghazal no. 778.
19. Jam!, Diwan-i kamil, p. 185, ghazal no. 137.
20. Edward Granville Browne, A Literary History of Persia, 4 vols.
(Cambridge, 1921), 2:232.
21. Mul)ammad 'Andallb, Nliila-i 'andallb, 2 vols. (Bhopal, 1309/
1890-91), 1:646.
22. Mul)sin Fan! Kashrni:ri, Dlwan, ed. G.L. Tikki (Tehran, 1%4), p. 82.
23. Fani, Diwan, p. 10.
24. Baba Fighanl, Dlwan, ed. A.S. Khwansarl, 2nd ed. (Tehran, 1340 H
solar/1961), ghazal no. 358.
25. Professor Vincent M. Monteil, Paris, in an oral communication,
remarked that in Omar Khayyam's famous quatrain about the "book under a
tree, and wine," the correct reading is not kitab, "book," but with the change
of one dot, kabab, "roast meat," which makes much more sense both in the
context and in the usage of the term kitab.
26. Annemarie Schimmel, And Muhammad is His Messenger (Chapel Hill,
1985), Index: s.v. umml, especially pp. 71-74.
27. Annemarie Schimmel, Calligraphy and Islamic Culture, p. 79. relying
on Sulaiman, Sa'daddln Mustaqlrnzadah, Tu!Jfat al-khartatln, ed. lbnul Emin
Mahmud (Istanbul, 1928), p. 7 (among the forty /Jadlth on writing).
28. Majdaddln Majdud Sana'!, lfadlqat al-IJaqTqah, ed. Mudarris
(Tehran, 1329 H solar/1950), p. 457.
29. Ikrfun, Armaghiln-i Pak, p. 193.
30. Fani, DTwan, p. 144.
31. Mul)ammad Tadhkirat-i shu'ara-yi Kashmlr, 5 vols., ed. Sayyid
Hussamuddln Rashdl (Karachi, 1967-68) 4: 1736. A is the basic text, I-IV the
additional notes supplied by the editor.
I
32. Schimmel, Calligraphy and Islamic Culture, Index: s.v. kllt4t, especially
pp. 128-34.
33. Tadhkirat A, p. 107.
34. Sa'di, Kulliyiit, ed. Furiighi (Tehran, 1342 H solar/1963),
ghazal no. 517, p. 498, line 8.
36. Fani, Dfwiin, p. 135.
38. Dfwiin, p. 363 (mfm no. 9).
39. Schimmel, Calligraphy and Islamic Culture, pp. 106-11.
40. Isma'Il Bakhshi, quoted in Mir "Alisir Qani', Maqiiliit al-shu'arii',
ed. Sayyid ijussamuddin Rashdi (Karachi, 1956), p. 44.
41. Amir Khusrau, DTHiin-i kiimil, ed. Mal:lmiid Darwish (Tehran, 1343
H solar/1965).
42. Abu Talib Kalim, Diwiin, ed. Partaw Bai9a'I (Tehran, 1336 H solar/
1957), ghawl no. 214.
43. Khwajah Mir Dard, Diwiin-i forsT (Delhi, 1310/1891-92), p. 65. About
Dard's attitude to writing and books, see Annemarie Schimmel, Pain and Grace
(Leiden, 1976), pt. 1.
44. Mul:lammad 'Urfi Shirazi, Kulliyiit, ed. Ghulam ijusain Jawiihiri
(Tehran, 1336 H solar/1957), ghazal on p. 283, line 5.
45. Sa'di, Kulliyiit /, ghazal no. 296, p. 282, line 4.
46. Jam!, Dfwiin-i kiimil, rubii'T no. 90.
47. Kalim, Dfwiin, ghawl no. 539. Cf. also Khaqiini, Diwiin, p. 42, "birds
in the garden learn the alphabet like little children."
90 Schimmel
49. Flghiini, Diwiin, ghazal no. 151.
50. Amir Khusrau, Diwiin-i kiimil, no. 336.
51. Fighiini, Diwiin, ghazal no. 363.
52. l:Iiift?:, Diwiin, p. 119, ghazal no. 59. This verse, which is usually quoted
as one of l:Iiifi?:'s finest puns, appears only in a footnote.
53. Amir Khusrau, Diwiin-i kiimil, no. 476.
54. Muf:tammad Iqbal, Zabur-i 'ajam (Lahore, 1927), pt. 2, no. 29.
55. Fiini, Diwiin, p. 109.
56. Gibb, History of Ottoman Poetry, 6:80.
57. Fu?:lili, Diwiin, ed. Abdulbaki GOlpinarli (Istanbul, 1948), no. 34.
58. Jiimi, Diwiin-i kiimil, p. 260, ghazal no. 331.
59. Fani, Diwiin, p. 140.
60. Carl Brockelmann, Geschichte der arabischen literatur (Leiden, 1938),
suppl. 3: 12.
61. Jiimi, Diwiin-i kiimil, p. 401, ghazal no. 598.
62. Fu?:lili, Diwiin, no. 132.
63. Ibn Abi 'Awn, Kitiib al-tashbihiit, ed. M. Mu'id Khan (London!Leiden,
1960), p. 58.
64. Daulatshiih, Tadhkirat al-shu'arii', ed. Edward Granville Browne
(Leiden, 1900), p. 136.
65. Jaliiladdin Rumi, Diwiin-i kiibir yii Kulliyiit-i Shams, 10 vols., ed.
Badi'uzzarniin Furuziinfar (Tehran, 1957), ghawl no. 1425.
66. Sana'i,Diwiin, ed. Mudarris Ra?:awi (Tehran, n.d.), p. 899.
67. Na?:iri Nishiipliri, Diwiin, ed. Ma?:iihir M u ~ a f f i i (Tehran, 1340 H
solar/1961), ghazal no. 520.
91
68. Jami, Dimin-i kamil, p. 884.
69. Bedil, Diwiin (Bombay, 1302/1885), p. 207.
71. mdhkirat /, p. 118, line 7 (Iliihi).
72. About see l:lamzah_ al-Isfiihani, al-Tanbih 'ala l)udUth
ed. al-Shaykh Mubammad l:lasan AI Yasin (Baghdad, 1967). See A. Schimmel,
Calligraphy and Islamic Culture, ch. 4, notes 4-6.
73. Bedil, Kulliyiit, 4 vols. (Kabul, 1962-65), 1:5.
74. Kalim, Diwiin, gha:zal no. 316.
76. Qani', Maqiiliit al-shu'arii' ,. p. 412.
77. Bedil, Kulliyiit, 1:32.
78. Na:(':iri, Diwiin, gha:zal no. 483.
79. Fuziili, Diwiin, no. 71.
80. Mirza Asadulliih Ghalib, Urdu diwiin, ed. I:Ifunid AJ:unad Khan (Lahore,
1969)' p. 155.
81. Ghalib, Kulliyiit-i fiirsi, 17 vols. (Lahore: University of the Punjab,
n.d.), 5: qasidah 36.
82. Iqbal, Asriir-i khudi (Lahore, 1915), line 285.
83. mdhkirat A, p. 593, line 27.
84. Qudsi, in Tadhkirat III, p. 1249.
86. Ja'fur Beg Asaf Khan Qazwini, in Badaoni, Muntakhab al-tawiirikh,
3 vols., eds. William Nassau Lees and Ahmad Ali, trans. George S.A. Ranking,
W.H. Lowe, and Wolseley Haig, (Calcutta, 1865-89; repr. Patna: Academia
Asiatica), 3: text 217, trans. p. 301.
92
Schimmel
87. Ghalib, Kulliyiit-i forsi, 1: no. 284.
88. Khiiqiini, Diwiin, p. 209.
89. Ghalib, Kulliyiit-i forsi, 1: no. 284.
90. Anvari, Diwiin, ed. Sa'id Nafisi (Tehran, 1958), fi al-taw):lid,
p. 175, line 10.
91. For examples, see Annemarie Schimmel, The Triumphal Sun
(London/The Hague, 1978), chapter on "Divine Calligraphy."
92. Ghiilib, Urdu diwiin, no. 1. For the interpretation, see Annemarie
Schimmel, A Dance of Sparks: Studies in Ghalib's Imagery (New Delhi, 1979),
chapter on "Calligraphy and Poetry."
93. lkram, Armaghiin-i Piik, p. 227.
94. Iqbal, Biil-i Jibril (Lahore, 1936), p. 50.
95. Iqbal, Payiim-i mashriq (Lahore, 1923 ), p. 119.
96. Iqbal, ?,arb-i Kalim (Lahore, 1937), p. 14.
97. Jami, l..awii'i}J,, no. 40. Bedil, too, combines book collecting with
afsurda dili, "having a frozen, dried-up heart," Kulliyiit, 1:226.
98. Jaliiladdin Riimi, Diwiin-i kiibir, ghazal no. 2481.
99. Jalaladdin Riimi, Mathnawi, 3: line 3847.
100. Fiini, Diwiin, p.42.
101. Tadhkirat A, p. 320 (Qalandar).
102. Gesii Dariiz, Anis al-'ushshiiq (Hyderabad/Deccan, 1940), p. 188.
103. Dard, Diwiin-i forsi, rubii'i no. 82.
104. Sa'di, Kulliyiit, 23: no. 586.
105. Sana'i, Diwiin, p. 801.
6
Biographical Dictionaries:
Inner Structure and Cultural Significance
Wadad al-Qa4I
Biographical dictionaries seem to be, for the researchers in the Islamic Arabic
library, both a blessing and a curse. When a researcher seeks to identify a
relatively unknown person whose identification is crucial for his/her research,
finding this person's biography in a biographical dictionary produces
unparalleled relief, joy, and a sense of salvation. When he/she does not, however,
the frustration is great, and the chances of coming out with solid results are
postponed-perhaps indefinitely. And, in fact, it is quite possible that a
researcher would not find what he/she is looking for, not only because the Arabic
biographical dictionaries, or what has survived of them, do not, and perhaps
could not, include the biographies of every single person mentioned in the
history of Islamic peoples across the centuries, but also because the promise
that those dictionaries have, and the actual evidence of their tremendous
usefulness, raise the hopes and aspirations of the researcher, creating thereby
an image which does not necessarily stand up to the reality. If X were to identify
a poet named Mul_tamrnad, my expectation would be that, even if I failed to
find his biography in all the available dictionaries on poets, I would eventually
find him in Jamal al-Din al-Qiftl's (d. 646/1248)
1
dictionary, al-Mul]ammadun
min al-shu'arii' wa ash'aruhum, which has entries for the Arab poets called
"Mul_tammad." I may not, however, find him there either, the fact being that
the book has not survived in its entirety. And there is, after all, another obstacle,
namely the sheer number of these biographical dictionaries: they seem to be
endless-"in their hundreds or thousands," as Stephen Humphreys aptly put
it
2
-and one is always afraid that one may have forgotten to consult a relevant
dictionary, or that a new dictionary has been published without one being aware
of it.
Whereas all this is true for anyone who has had to use Arabic biographical
dictionaries extensively what is certainly as true is that having to handle these,
dictionaries is an experience that puts one in the very midst of one of the major
93
94 al-Qiiqi
areas of medieval Islamic book production. After all, biographical composition
is a form of historical composition: this is a fact that had been recognized by
Muslim scholars of old,J and its echoes continue to be heard in modern
scholarship today.
4
It is also a fact that is true of other cultures with well-
developed historical traditions,
5
although in the Islamic one in particular, the
biography, especially in the form of biographical dictionaries, has had an
unparalleled level of prominence
6
for a variety of specific, historical reasons.?
Given the importance of this genre of writing, it is not surprising that there
has been a sizeable number of studies on it. Some of these studies are brief,
or detailed, surveys of the literature;
8
others are more analytical.
9
The latter
discuss issues such as the motives for writing biographical dictionaries,
10
their
origin,I
1
provenance,
12
sources,
13
or organization,
14
the criteria for inclusion used
by compilers,I
5
typical contents of biographies there,
16
and so forth. Few of
the studies venture to dwell at length on the question of the development of
the genre,I
7
and even fewer try to discern a relationship between this development
and stations of change in Islamic society and civilization across time.
18
Though
admitted,
19
this aspect of studying biographical dictionaries remains almost
absent; generally, one gets perceptive remarks about the genre,Z
0
but the remarks
are not linked to social and cultural development.
It is this last idea that the present paper wishes to investigate. The
investigation is based on my belief that biographical dictionaries are indeed
a mirror in which are reflected some important aspects of the intellectual and
cultural development of the Islamic community, at least in the first nine centuries
of Islamic civilization. What this study will attempt to do is to highlight these
aspects by concentrating mainly, but not exclusively, on the inner structure and
organization of biographical dictionaries, produced during these early centuries
of Islam.
But let me, before going into the heart of the topic, define what I mean
precisely by "biographical dictionaries." This is necessary not only because
there is no equivalent in Arabic for the term "biographical dictionaries"
(although the expressions "kutub al-tabaqiit"
21
[books on "classes"] or "kutub
al-tariijim" [books on biographies] are frequently used), but also, and more
importantly, because there are many genres of writing that come close to being
identified as biographical dictionaries when they are, strictly speaking, not:
one is to be reminded of how closely biographical dictionaries have been
associated with history for exarnple.ZZ Thus, a biographical dictionary, as I would
define it, is a prose work whose primary structure is that of a series of
biographies, regardless of the order in which these biographies succeed each
other.
According to this definition, the works that fall into the category of
biographical dictionaries in the Arabic Islamic library can be one of two kinds.
The first is what I would call "general biographical dictionaries." These works
Biographical Dictionaries 95
include: biographies of individuals from all walks of life, professions, epochs,
places, ranks, beliefs, and so forth. Two good examples of this kind are Salal)
al-Dln al-Safadl's (d. 764/1362) voluminous al-Wiifi bi-al-wafayiit and Ibn
al-'lmad al-I:Ianbali:'s (d. 1089/1678) large Shadhariit al-dhahab. The second
type is what I would term "restricted biographical dictionaries," dictionaries
which contain biographies of individuals who share one common, yet specific,
trait. Most frequently these individuals belong to the same discipline of
scholarship: Jalal al-Din al-Suyuti's (d. 91111505) Tabaqat al-mufassin-n records
only the biographies of the interpreters of the Qur'an; Jamal al-Dln al-Mizzl's
(d. 74211341) Tahdhib al-kamiil those of the transmitters of hadith; AbU Isl)aq
al-Shirazl's (d. 476/1083) Tabaqiit al-fuqahii' those of the jurists; 'Izz al-Dln
Ibn al-Athir's (d. 630/1232) Usd al-ghiibah those of the companions of the
Prophet; Ibn Qutaybah's (d. 276/989) al-Shi'r wa-al-shu'arii' those of the poets;
al-Qiftl's lnbiih al-ruwiit those of the grammarians and philologists; pseudo-
Abii Sulayman al-Mantiq1 ai-Sijistanrs (d. ca. 380/990) (Muntakhab) Siwan
al-/Jikmah those of philosophers, both Greek and Muslim; and 'mqiit al-J:Iamawl's
(d. 626/1228) Mu'jam al-udabii' (known as lrshiid al-arib ita ma'rifat al-adib)
those of the compilers among the litterateurs, for example. Often, too, these
"restricted dictionaries" record the biographies of individuals who share a
certain theological or religious orientation, like Ibn ai-Murta<,ia's (d. 840/1436)
Tabaqiit al-mu'tazilah, for the Mu'tazili theologians of the Muslim community
until the time of the author, and Abu Nu'aym (d.430/1038) lfilyat
al-awliyii', for the Muslim ascetics and the Sufis until his day. Others include
entries on those individuals who have lived in or passed by a particular city
or district, such as ai-Khatm al-Baghdadl's (d. 463/1070) Ta' rikh Baghdiul, which
records the biographies of figures connected with the city of Baghdad, or
I:Iamzah ibn Yiisuf al-Sahmfs (d.427/1035) Ta'rikh Jurjiin, which has entries
only for the scholars connected with the town of Jurjan. In still other works,
the individuals entered all belong to a particular profession, as one finds in
Mul)ammad ibn Khalaf Wakl's (d.306/918) Akhbiir al-qu4at, for the judges,
and Ibn Abi (d. 668/1270) 'Uyun al-anbii' fi (abaqat al-atibbii',
for the physicians and related medical professionals. Or, in other instances,
those covered may be individuals who share a peculiar characteristic, no matter
how significant or insignificant it is for their work, such as Abii I:Iatim al-
Sijistanl'a (d. 248/862) al-Mu'ammarun wa-al-wa$aya, which has entries for
prominent figures known for longevity, Salah al-Oin al-Safadfs Nakt al-himyiin
fi nukat al-'umyiin, whose entries deal with blind men, and (d.
255/868) larger al-Bur$iin wa-al-'urjiin wa-al-'umyiin wa-al-IJuliin, which
handles the biographies of litterateurs who were lepers, lame, blind, and
squint-eyed.
What this definition would exclude are works whose primary structure is
not that of a series of biographies, in spite of the fact that they may contain
96 al-QiJ4I
a large number of biographies, and, in fact the biographies included in them
may be an essential component of the books, and may be extremely useful for
the researchers. Books on genealogies, ansiib, for example, often look as if
they were biographical dictionaries, but they really are not, since the primary
criterion in them is the tribe, clan, and so forth. Accordingly, a work very rich
in biographies like al-Baladhuri's (279/892) Ansiib al-ashriif is not to be
considered among the biographical dictionaries, fOr it is, essentially, an indirect
history of the early Muslim community as it is envisioned through the
achievements of its prominent Arab men. Similarly, several annalistic histories,
such as those of al-Tabar! (d. 310/922) and Ibn Taghribirdi (d. 874/1470), which
often include biographies of individuals at the end of the historical reportings
of many years, are by no means biographical dictionaries, just as geographical
dictionaries containing many biographies, such as Yaqut al-l;lamawi's Mu'jam
al-buldiin, are not either, because the city, district, or locale is their primary
structural criterion. On a more subtle level, a great deal of biographical
information, in biographical form, is available in some lexicons, like al-Murta<;la
al-Zabidi's (d. 120511790) Taj al-'arits (most frequently under al-mustadrak
at the end of the entries), or in works which specialize in documenting the
correct spelling and pronunciation of proper names, such as Ibn Makiila's (d.
475/1082) al-Jkmiil or Ibn l;lajar al-'Asqalani's (d. 852/1448)
but, there again, the essential format is not that of biographical dictionaries,
properly speaking. Several other kinds of quasi-biographical books also cannot
be considered biographical dictionaries since biographies are not the determining
factor in their construction. Examples of these include travel books, especially
late medieval Maghribi ones, like Ibn Rushayd al-Sabti's (d. 721/1321) Rihlat
ibn Rushayd; bibliographical books, like the famous al-Fihrist of Ibn al-Nadim
(d. 380/990 or 412/1021); mashyakhat or baramij books, that is, books which
record the life and times of the authors' teachers,
23
such as the Mashyakhah
of Ibn al-Jawzi (d. 597/1200) or the Bamiimaj of al-Wadi'ashi (d. 749/1338);
large compendia which are encyclopaedic in their scope, such as Ibn Fa<;ll Allah
al- 'Umari's (d. 749/1348) Masalik even if their scope were somehow
restricted (such as al-Maqqari's [d. 1041/1631] Nafo. al-(ib, which is concerned
only with the news of Andalusia); major commentaries on famous, important
or widely-read early texts, like Ibn Abi al-l;ladid's Nahj al-baliighah, which
is a commentary on the sayings, orations, and letters of 'Ali ibn Abi Talib;
or even books which are concerned with recording the available information
on "the firsts," awii'il, that is, the first persons to perform certain things, such
as Abii Hilal al-'Askari's (d. 395/1004) Kitiib al-awii'il.
With this clarification out of the way, we can now begin to look at the
manner in which the biographical dictionaries reflected some traits of the
intellectual and cultural development of the Muslim community in the first nine
centuries of Islamic civilization.
1. One of the most striking features of the Arabic biographical dictionaries
is that they do not make their appearance until the beginning of the third/ninth
century, the two earliest extant dictionaries
24
being Ibn Sa'd's (d. ca. 230/845)
Kitiib al-(abaqiit al-kabir and Ibn Salliim al-Jumal:ti's (d. ca. 2311846) Tabaqat
f u ~ u l al-shu'arii'. This by itself is a significant fact, for it indicates that the
genre of biographical dictionaries evolved in Islamic civilization at the time
when that civilization was beginning to develop a clear self-image, and when
it was reaching towards formalizing its stances. It is therefore a genre which
is by no means "preliminary" or "simple"; it is one which belongs to the age
of the maturing of the civilization in which it arose. This is further confirmed
by the fact that this genre was preceded by a presumably simpler genre of
writing, namely that of the single biography, or monograph.
2
s Unfortunately,
none of these monographs, with the exclusion of the Prophet Muhammad's
Sirah, have survived. However, Ibn al-Nadim's Fihrist provides us with ample
examples of them, such as Abii Mikhnafs (d. 1571774) Kitiib al-Mukhtiir ibn
Abi 'Ubayd and Kitiib Zayd ibn 'Ali,
26
Ibn al-Kalbfs (d. 206/821) Akhbiir
al-'Abbiis ibn 'Abd al-Muf(alib and Kitiib Musaylimah al-kadhdhiib wa-Sijiih,Z
1
and al-Haytham ibn 'Adi's (d. 207/822) Kitiib akhbiir Ziyiid ibn Abihi and
Akhbiir al-l;lasan ibn 'Ali wa-wafatihi .
28
These and similar works must have
been among the basic sources for the early biographical dictionaries. What
the biographical dictionaries essentially did was to compile them and to create
from them, in addition to other historical and literary sources, complex and
elaborate structures.
But perhaps the best evidence we have of the complexity and maturity of
the genre of biographical dictionaries in its earliest stages is the structure of
the dictionaries themselves. For an examination of the structures of the two
works mentioned above (Ibn Sa'd's and Ibn Sallam's) reveals that their authors
were struggling hard to simplify complex material, and, where possible, to create
clear and comprehensible presentations of their materials, go beyond the unitary
vision of things dictated by the earlier, single-format works, and present
comprehensive and global visions of the two disciplines they were addressing
in their works.
Of the two earliest dictionaries, Ibn Sa 'd's Tabaqiit is the more complex
and much longer one,
29
fur in it the author uses so many criteria in organizing
his material that one senses that he is working against serious odds to achieve
clarity side by side with comprehensiveness. The work is without an introduc-
tion; it begins with a lengthy Sirah, biography, of the Prophet, together with
an account of the maghiizi, the early campaigns. Immediately following the
Prophet's biography, there is what amounts to a statement of purpose: "Naming
those whom we have counted from the companions of the Messenger of God,
from the Muhajirnn and the An.riir, and those who lived after them from their
offspring (abnii'ihim) and their followers, of the people of knowledge (fiqh),
98 al-QMI
learning ('ilm), and transmission of l}adith, and what has come down to us
about their names, genealogies, agnomens (kuna), and reports class
by class (tabaqatan tabaqah)."
30
This sentence gives us a clear idea of the
comprehensiveness that the author is aiming for; it does not, however, tell us
how he is going to arrange the massive amount of material he has: the
biographies of the religious scholars who lived in the first two centuries of Islam.
In the next main part of the book, however, the reader begins to have a sense
of the arrangement. This second part covers the biographies of the Prophet's
Companions, and its organization indicates that the author has decided to choose
the criterion of "sabiqah" (precedence of priority in accepting Islam) in
arranging his entries. Thus, the biographies of first converts to Islam-those
who fought in the first major battle which the Prophet fought (the battle of
Badr, in the year 2 A.H.)-are entered first. But within this section, another
criterion is introduced, namely that of the precedence of the Muhiljirnn (mainly
the earliest Meccan converts from the tribe of Quraysh) over the (mainly
the later converts from the city of Medina): a tribal/place criterion. In the next
section, this criterion is dropped, and the sabiqah criterion is resumed, so that
the biographies of both the Muhajirun and the who fought at the battle
of Ul).ud (in the year 3 A. H.) and the following battles are mentioned, albeit
only if they had been among the emigrants to Abyssinia-still an additional
criterion. The last section retains the sabiqah criterion, with a slight twist to
it: it includes the biographies of the Muslims who accepted Islam prior to the
conquest of Mecca (in the year 8 A.H.). This section concludes the first part
on the Companions of the Prophet.
In the following part, which covers most of the remainder of the book,
the author abandons the sabiqah criterion completely and assumes two
concurrent criteria: place and time. Accordingly, the biographies of the Followers
of Medina-the Prophet's adopted city-are, first, followed by the biographies
of the Followers of Mecca, then those of Tii'if, Yemen, Yamiimah, Bahrain,
Kufah, Basrah, Madii'in, Baghdad, Khurasiin, Syria, the Jazirah, Egypt,
then Ayla.
31
Within each of the sections on each center of learning, the
biographies are arranged in classes, (abaqiit, usually carrying an ordinal number,
that is, the first (abaqah, second, third, et cetera. This structure shows not
only the place criterion most clearly and the time one a little less,
32
but also
the factor of transmission of i).adith or religious learning in general, where there
are instances when an older person may narrate from a younger one or from
a peer. This factor comes into play in particular in the sections on Kufah and
Basrah, where there are many sub-sections within a class depending on which
scholars the members of this class narrated i).adith from. Thus, in the section
on Kufah, and within the first class, there are ten sub-sections, each of which
includes the biographies of those who narrated i).adith from 'Umar alone,3
3
from
'Umar and "Ali,3
4
from 'Ali alone,3
5
from 'Ali and Ibn Mas'ud,3
6
from Ibn
Mas 'iid alone,
37
and so forth. The presence of this fuctor in the two sections
of this third part is so strong that it amounts to being an independent, additional
criterion, thus adding all the more to the complexity of the book's structure.
The book ends with a special part on women, with no subdivision.
38
There
the criterion of sabiqah/timelpietylfume come into play all at once.
The conclusion one can draw from this analysis is that Ibn Sa'd, in the
earliest surviving biographical dictionary, achieved comprehensiveness and
attempted to achieve clarity regardless of complexity. In spite of all the
intertwined criteria, clarity was not far from being reached: we have a large
eight-volume work,3
9
with over 4,250 entries, recording the biographies of the
Companions of the Prophet, then of the Followers of the Companions, then
their Followers, then of the Muslim women who played a role in early Islamic
society and Islamic learning. It must be noted, however, that the complexity
of the work was bound to be overwhelming for any author attempting this genre
at such an early point in Islamic culture. The result was that many prominent
Muslims came to have more than one biography in the book, simply because
they fulfilled several of the criteria the author was struggling to organize and
put under control. Also, some information is repeated in several places in the
book (though sometimes in different versions), thus pointing to the hardships
endured in compiling this pioneering biographical dictionary.
In Ibn Salliim's Tabaqat,
40
no such overlapping takes place and no poet
has more than one entry. The book is better controlled, with a relatively lengthy
introduction on literary criticism and the author's method. Ibn Salliim explains
that he is going to divide the Arab poets into two main groups: the pre-Islamic
poets and the Islamic poets. Within each group, he is going to have ten classes,
and in each class there will be biographies of four poets who are similar to
each other in poetical achievement. The book, then, takes into consideration
two main criteria: time, then artistic achievement/fame. In general, the book
has a much clearer structure; it is also much shorter and its material is more
limited. And yet, signs of pioneering efforts persist. The time factor is not always
an absolute one: the biographies of the "mukhadramun," that is, poets who
lived partially after its advent, are sometimes put among those of the pre-Islamic
poets and sometimes among those of the Islamic ones. The number of classes
selected and the strict number of four within each class is so arbitrary that
it defies explanation, inasmuch as it is sometimes very difficult to figure out
why certain poets were lumped together in one class. But, we have to remember,
all this is the result of the struggle of an ambitious author treading on strange,
virgin soil: he tries his best, and achieves as much as he can.
This analysis of the inner structure of the t\\0 earliest of our biographical
dictionaries, written at the beginning of the third/ninth century, point out that
in addition to the attempt at complexity and comprehensiveness at that moment
in time in Islamic civilization, the civilization had already begun to mature
and define itself more clearly.
100 al-Qluji
Ibn Sallam's dictionary is but a culmination of that civilization's enduring
tendency to compare and contrast poets in terms of output and artistic
achievement-eventually with fame. It is a record of the ''fuhul" among the
poets, the best of them, that is, those who set the linguistic and artistic standards
for other poets for a long time. On the other hand, Ibn Sa'd's dictionary is,
above all, a presentation of the self-image of Islamic civilization at that time,
which considered participation in Islamic learning a criterion for prominence
in it. And the details of that structure reveal without doubt the importance of
the idea of the sabiqah which was developing then: the earlier one adhered
to Islam, the higher his position in learning would be. Thus the Companions
come before the fullowers. Interestingly enough, the criterion of tribe or tribal
grouping had great significance, too. In the Companions' part, the biographies
of the Muhiijirun come before those of the A n . ~ i i r : the Quraysh comes first.
The Quraysh is the tribe of the Prophet, and Ibn Sa d is telling us that the Prophet
has a special position. This is why Ibn Sa'd's work begins with Mul}ammad's
Sirah, and two volumes, or almost a quarter of the work, are accorded to it.
But the Quraysh is also the stock of the caliphs, the supreme rulers of the Islamic
community, now already in power for two centuries. The Quraysh are also the
paramount notables, ashriif, among the Arab Muslims. Thus, even after
centuries of urbanization and of Islamization of non-Arabs, the supreme Arab
tribe, that of the Prophet and the caliphs, is still accorded a distance treatment
(cf. Baladhurl's Ansiib al-ashriij). On the other hand, we have to remember
that the Muhiijirun mean also Meccans versus Medinans. The precedence of
the first vis-a-vis the second, however, is adhered to by the author only in the
Companions' part; in the Followers' part, the order is reversed: Medina comes
first and is then followed by Mecca. But this is understandable. Islamic
civilization then saw Medina as TilE center of learning since the main
Companions lived in it after the death of the Prophet, and it was in Medina
that the Followers took their religious knowledge from the Companions. Medina
was also the capital of the first caliphs, the center of the emerging Islamic state,
the heir to which was the contemporary Islamic state. After Ibn Sa'd is through
with Medina and Mecca, he opts for treating other centers of learning in Arabia,
and then he moves to Iraq. In the section on Iraq, he begins with Kufah rather
than Basrah, a fact which is significant. Kufah, again, was a kind of capital
for a part of rule of the last "Rashidi" caliph, 'AU; also, more Followers who
had transmitted I:tadith and religious learning from the Companions lived there.
These two filets, at least, give it precedence over Basrah, in the view of the
formative scholars of the early third/ninth century. But Kufuh also, much more
than Basrah, was the center of the largest number of religious controversies;
hence the introduction by the author of the criterion of "the narrator": who
your authority is in learning affects the stance you take on various issues, be
they legal, political, or theological. The overall image of the Islamic community,
as advanced by Ibn Sa'd, is represented by its religious scholars, after the part
on the Companions; the mere division of the book into locales, places, or centers
of learning indicates how the early Muslims saw their tradition, as one that
grew in separate milieus (hence the contemporaneous ri}Jlahfi fa[ab al-'ilm).
Finally, Ibn Sa'd's handling of women in a separate part is indicative of the
view Islamic civilization then took of women's role, as one which is distinct
from the role of men in religious learning: the criteria that apply to the latter
need not apply to the first.
2. Looking again at the two earliest biographical dictionaries, one cannot
but be struck by the fact that the genre of biographical dictionaries deals with
the fields of poetry and religious learning, with an underlying, hidden stratum
of history. This is significant, for it indicates that at the time when Islamic
civilization had begun to define itself, at the beginning of the third/ninth century,
poetry and religious learning came to the forefront as fundamental, defining
criteria. Hardly anything need be said about religious learning: without
adherence to Islamic learning, its roots as well as its perpetuation, there is no
such thing as Islamic civilization, and this is precisely the message of our earliest
biographical author, Ibn Sa'd. As for poetry, and Arabic poetry in particular,
it is the most firmly rooted pre-Islamic genre which continued in great force
after Islam, in spite of early Islamic reservations about its sources and function.
This is not the right place to go into the reasons for this continuation; what
is relevant to our discussion here is that the major figures in this genre get
their biographies recorded at the same time as the religious scholars do, right
at the outset of the self-definition of Islamic civilization. Does one sense a
dichotomy here? Only in appearance, perhaps, but not in reality. After all, our
first comprehensive biographer of the poets chose the fu}Jul from those poets.
The meaning of the word "fu}Jul" is ambiguous, but it must include at least
two things: the artistic and the linguistic abilities of the poets concerned. The
artistic component keeps us in the realm of poetry proper, but the linguistic
component takes us a little out of it, into an area which brings us back to the
religious sphere: Arabic is, after all, the language of the Qur'an. This way,
poetry becomes a supporting factor for the definition of a civilization which
conceived of itself as primarily religious.
The role of history alongside the two fields of religious learning and poetry
at the outset of the genre of biographical dictionaries is quite obvious. In order
to be comprehensive requires in the first place that one think in historical terms.
Actually, the criterion of time, or a certain chronological setup, is present in
both works we have been discussing.
41
3. The two books under study can be the starting point for examining yet
another way in which the biographical dictionaries of the Arabic Islamic library
reflected important traits of the intellectual development of the Muslim com-
munity. This way revolves around the question of specialization.
102 al-Qii4I
One of the most striking things about biographical dictionaries is that they
were, right from the start of the genre, and for at least the four following
centuries, solely of the "restricted" rather than the "general" kind:
42
most of
them dealt with specific fields mostly, although some of them were restricted
by criteria other than field. This field-related restriction makes them, in a way,
"specialized" books: one does not look up biographies of other than poets in
Ibn Sallam's Tabaqllt, nor for biographies of other than religious authorities
in Ibn Sa'd's Tabaqiit. This phenomenon needs explanation, for an observer
of any given civilization might expect the reverse: that within a certain genre
there should be a tendency towards recording the general first, then the
particular. We must not forget two things, however. The first is that the genre
of biographical dictionaries belongs to the age of maturity of early Islamic
civilization, not of infancy; and the second is that this civilization perceived
itself primarily as a religious one, with a necessary linguistic component and
a linguistic/poetic one. Specialization was unavoidable; indeed, it is a marker
of the civilization at hand. A comparison of the genre of early biographical
dictionaries with the related genre of history in its early stages, for example,
shows that the tendency tCMiards specialization rather than generality is common
between them; it is even stronger in the early historical works than it is in the
early biographical dictionaries, as the chapter on the historians in Ibn al-Nadi:m's
Fihrist shows.
But there is something else to note with regard to "specialization" in the
development of the genre of biographical dictionaries, namely that with the
passage of time, the tendency towards specialization actually increases. Whereas
all the religious scholars are biographical subjects in Ibn Sa'd's dictionary, a
few decades later, Bukhari (d. 256/869) includes in his al-Ta'rikh al-kabir only
the biographies of the !}adHh transmitters; and, two centuries later, Abii Is!}aq
al-Shirazi: includes in his Tabaqiit al-fuqahii' only the biographies of the jurists.
The circle becomes even narrower, and more specialized, later on. Instead of
al-Shirazl's jurists of all schools, we begin to observe, after him, dictionaries
concerned only with jurists from the Maliki (e.g. al-Qac;U 'Iyad's [d. 544111491
Tartfb al-madiirik), l:lanafi (e.g. Ibn Abi: al-Wala"s [d. 77511373] al-Jawiihir
al-mu4iyah), l:lanbali (e.g. Ibn Abii Ya'la al-Farra's [d. 526/ll3l] Tabaqiit al-
haniibilah) or Shafi'i (e.g. Taj al-Dln al-Subki's [d. 77l/l369] Tabaqiit al-
shaji' iyah al-kubrii) rites. And instead of Bukhari's i}adnh transmitters, we get
special books on reliable transmitters (e.g. al-Mizzl's Tahdhib al-kamiil), or
fairly reliable transmitters (e.g., Shams al-Dln al-Dhahabfs [d. 748/1374] Miziin
al-i'tidiil), or weak transmitters (e.g., Ibn l:lajar's Lisiin al-miziin). What this
tells us is that although the genre of biographical dictionaries began as a
specialized genre, its specialization was limited to what the civilization perceived
as broadly indicative of itself; it was an "inclusive" rather than an "exclusive"
kind of specialization. As for later "sub-specialization" within the genre, it
was bound to happen, as the civilization became more and more advanced and
sophisticated. Paradoxically, the writing of general rather than restricted
biographical dictionaries began quite late in Islamic civilization, six and a half
centuries after the advent of Islam, with Ibn Khallikan's (68111282) l#lfayiit
al-a'yiin. But, again, this is quite natural. A great deal of time was needed
before one could see the general picture and record biographies of distinguished
men in all fields, places, eras, and walks of life.
4. Another feature of biographical dictionaries that appeared rather late
in the history of the development of the genre is that of the "continuation,"
dhayl. By "continuation" I mean that a compiler would take the biographical
dictionary of a predecessor, possibly, but not necessarily together with the
predecessor's criteria, and, write his own biographical dictionary, including
the biographies ofthe people who lived in the period between the predecessor's
time and his own. Interestingly enough, this phenomenon appeared for the first
time not in the Islamic East but in the Islamic West, in Andalusia and the
Maghrib. The first person to attempt it was Ibn Bashkuwal (d. 57811183);
43
the
very title of his book, Kitiib [=the book of addendum], clearly conveys
a sense of "continuation," and the book is indeed a continuation of Ibn al-Fara<;li's
(404/1013) Tabaqiit al-jitqahii' wa-al-rnwat lil-'ilm bi-al-Andalus, on Andalusian
religious scholars. Ibn BashkUwal 's book itself was picked up for continuation
in the following century, when Ibn al-Abbar (d. 658/1259), again with an
indicative, explicit title, wrote his longer Kitiib al-takmilah [ = the book of
supplement] li-kitiib A few decades later, Ibn 'Abd al-Malik al-
Marrakishl (d. 703/1303) did the same thing with Ibn al-Abbar's book in his
large compendium, al-Dhayl wa-al-takmilah ba'd As
the title indicates, this book was meant by the author to be not simply a
continuation but also a comprehensive record of the Andalusian and Maghribi
scholars until his time, hence the duplication in it of some of the previously
recorded biographies.
The phenomenon of continuing the work of a previous compiler in
biographical dictionaries is, in my opinion, indicative of the confidence that
this genre gained over time, and hence its emergence rather late, a number
of centuries after the genre had made its first appearance. The fact that it surfaced
for the first time in Andalusia and the Islamic West has its cultural significance.
At the time when Ibn Bashkuwal wrote his Kitab there was a great
deal of intellectual restlessness in Andalusia, expressed in the IDrm of a rebellion
against servility to the Islamic East, against considering Andalusia a mere
subservient follower of the cultural traditions of the East, or an echoer of every
line of intellectual or artistic production taking place there. The most outspoken
intellectuals to express this rebellion are three of Andalusia's greatest thinkers
and historians: Ibn I:Iazm (d. 456/1064), Ibn l:layyan (d. 469/1076), and Ibn
Bassam (d. 542/ll47).
44
In fact, Ibn I:Iazm wrote a whole treatise on the merits
104 al-Qlu/I
of the Anda1usians (Risalahfifa4l ahl al-Andalus),
45
whose main message was
that the Andalusians made their own undoubted original contribution to Islamic
civilization and culture, and his treatise was soon complemented by other
Andalusian intellectuals.
46
Ibn Bassam, in the introduction to his huge
biographical compendium, al-Dhakhirah fi ma/:lilsin ahl al-JazJrah, quoted
Andalusia's great historian, Ibn I:Iayyan, in his rebellion against servility to
the traditions of the East, and after that he went on to record the biographies
of his Andalusian contemporaries from the litterateurs in the rest of his book.
It appears to me that by using the "continuation" format to record the biographies
of the religious scholars up to their respective times, what Ibn Bashkiiwal, Ibn
al-Abbiir, and Ibn 'Abd ai-Malik were doing was to precisely highlight the
Islamic West's continued tradition of original scholarship-and on its own; hence
the close relationship between the appearance of this phenomenon in the genre
of biographical dictionaries and in the Islamic West.
The genre, having taken this direction, could not remain restricted to the
West, but was bound to come to the East. Only a few decades after Ibn
Bashkiiwal wrote his first continuation, Ibn al-Dabithi (d. 637/1239), in the
East, wrote a continuation to ai-Khatib al-Baghdadi's (d. 463/1070) Ta'rikh
Baghdad, entitled Dhayl ta' rikh madinat al-salam Baghdad. In this work, Ibn
al-Dabithi brought up to date the biographies of long- and short-term residents
of Baghdad who contributed to Islamic civilization. Shortly thereafter, another,
longer continuation to the same book appeared, Ibn al-Najjar's (d. 643/1245)
Dhayl ta'rikh Baghdad. A similar process was undertaken a century later by
Ibn Shakir al-Kutubi (d. 763/1361), who, in his Fawat al-wafayat, recorded and
brought up to date the biographies which were left out by Ibn Khallikan (in
his Ubfayat al-a'yan), and brought them up to date. At the same time, al-Kutubi's
contemporary, al-Safadi (d. 763/1361), wrote a comprehensive biographical
dictionary, his voluminous al-Wafi bi-al-wafayiit, duplicating most of the
biographies present in Ibn Khallikan's and Ibn Shakir al-Kutubi's dictionaries,
thereby doing the same thing Ibn 'Abd al-Malik al-Marrakishi did with the
works of Ibn Bashkiiwal and Ibn al-Abbar in the Islamic West.
5. Going back to the inner structure of the biographical dictionaries, one
notes that, with the passage of time, these structures become smoother and
easier for the user to handle. It was noted above how the signs of complexity,
and even abstruseness, marred the structures of the earliest dictionaries (Ibn
Sa'd's and Ibn Sallam's), making it frequently impossible to predict where a
particular biography is to be found, and making it very difficult to use these
books without the help of indexes-unless one reads the books in their entirety,
of course. This changed rather quickly, progressing step by step. A few decades
after these t'MJ works appeared, Bukharr (d. 256/870) produced his al-Ta'rikh
al-kabir, including in it brief biographies of the transmitters ofl)adith. At almost
the same time, Ibn I:Iibban ai-Busti (d. 254/868) wrote his Kitab al-majrn}Jin.
The structure of these latter two dictionaries clearly represent attempts at
smoothness; their order is, in principle, based on the letters of the alphabet
in their oriental sequence. But the smoothness does not go very far: only the
first letter of the first name of a given l)adfth-transmitter is taken into
consideration. Thus people with names like "Ibrahim," "Al)mad," "Isl)aq,"
and ''Adam" come first simply because the first letter of their names is an alif.
Within this letter, as in all other letters, however, there is no particular order
whatsoever: the second letter of the name is not taken into consideration, nor
the following letters in the first names. The reader thus knows approximately
where the biographies of certain persons are going to be, but only within the
large range of the first letter of their first names. A mechanism for smoothness,
is, however, added by Bukhari (and Ibn l:fibban) to make things a little easier
for the user: all the biographies of persons with the same first name are grouped
together. Thus, for example, all the "lbrahims" are grouped together, and all
the "Mul)ammads" are grouped together. This structure proved to be quite
influential in the early history of the genre of biographical dictionaries, especially
in the field of l)adnh-transmission, maybe due to the great stature of Bukhari
and Ibn l:libban. Almost a century after these two scholars, al-'Uqayli (d.
322/934) used their structure in compiling his Kitilb al-du'afo' al-kabir, and
Ibn Abii:Iatim al-Razi (d. 327/938) used it in putting into final form what were
mainly his father's notes, his voluminous Kitilb al-jariJ wa-al-ta'dil.
It was not until the seventh/thirteenth century that complete smoothness
was reached in the inner structures of biographical dictionaries, and that came
with the appearance of Yaqiit al-l:lamawl's Mu'jam al-udabil' (or Irshiid al-
arib). From the time that book appeared onwards, the arrangement of
biographies in biographical dictionaries became more and more frequently
alphabetical, with all the letters of the first name, as well as those of the father's
name, and sometimes even the grandfuther's name, being taken into considera-
tion. This phenomenon came rather late in the genre of biographical dictionaries
in Islamic civilization, but here again, the amount of time needed for the
establishment of and confidence in a tradition has to be taken into account.
It is to be noted that although the smoother style came to be dominant in the
majority of the biographical dictionaries produced, traces of the older,
Bukhari/Ibn l:libban style did not disappear. Thus it is that some of our most
influential later books carry those traits, namely al-Khatlb al-Baghdadi's (d.
464/1071) Ta'rikh Baghdad, and, to a lesser extent, Ibn Khallikan's Wafayiit
al-a'yiin.
6. In al-Khatlb al-Baghdadi's book, there appears another characteristic
of some, but not many, of the later biographical dictionaries in regard to the
degree of strictness to which their authors adhered to alphabetical arrangement.
Like Bukhiiri, al-Khatlb adhered only to partial, rather than to full, alpha-
betization. He followed Bukharl in another very interesting phenomenon, namely
106 al-Qlu/f
that he set aside the biographies of those persons called "Mul)ammad" and
began his book with them, and only after that did he go to the normal sequence
of the letters of the alphabet, beginning with the letter alif. Why Bukhari: and
al-Khatm chose that particular break from the order that they otherwise adhered
to in their respective books is not difficult to explain. "Mul)ammad" is the
name of the Prophet, and it is in deference to him that anybody called by his
name is given precedence over people called by other names. In other words,
this is an act of piety. Mixing piety with scholarship in a civilization that
perceives itself primarily as religious is not strange at all; indeed, one may
expect more such expressions of piety. One does find these, in fuct. In later
works, one meets some biographical dictionaries which not only begin with
the "Mul)ammads," but also give precedence to the "'Abd Allahs" within the
compound names starting with the letter 'ayn ('Abd al-Ral,unan, 'Abd al-Malik,
'Abd al-Wal)ld, etc.)-a thing that breaks their alphabetical structures much
more than does beginning them with the "Mul)ammads." A good example of
this is al-Safudl's al-Wiift bi-al-wafa)iit, which begins with the "Mul)ammads"
and puts the "'Abd AlHihs" before the other compound names within the letter
'ayn. Ibn l:lajar's Tahdhib al-tahdhib does not begin with the
but its author follows al-Safadi: in giving priority to the "'Abd Alliihs" within
the letter 'ayn. All this is done, again undoubtedly, as an expression of piety:
Allah's name should precede any other names (although al-Ral)man, al-Malik,
al-Wal)i:d, etc., too, are names of God, but they are descriptive in nature). As
acts of piety, such interference with the normal order of the biographical
materials was bound to increase rather than decrease with the passage of time:
in religious civilizations, the farther away one is from the source, the more
one is desirous of expressing piety.
7. Returning to the issue of smoothness, one notes that with the development
of the genre of biographical dictionaries and its increasing tendency to make
its materials more easily accessible to the readers, methods of organization other
than alphabetization were used. The most notable method used is that of
arranging biographies within fixed time spans or periods, though arbitrary they
may often be. The seeds of this system, it appears to me, were sown by Bukhart's
al-m'rfkh a relatively short biographical dictionary whose biographies
are arranged, in principle, according to time spans. These time spans, however,
are not always the same: the first time period is defined by the lifetime of the
first prominent men of Islam, the Prophet and the first four caliphs, that is,
until the year 40 A. H. After that, decades are used: "[the biographies of those
who died between [the years] 40 [A.H.] and 50 [A.H.]," and so on. Decade-
long spans are adhered to in much of the book, but sometimes they change
to spans of five years (e.g., the years 211 to 215, 216 to 220), and, towards the
end of the book, beginning with the year 250, they change to one-year time
spans.
L -
But this was only the beginning, and beginnings are normally rather crude.
With time, this system was refined and it became a prime server of the principle
of smoothness and ease. Most frequently, time spans of either decades or
centuries were used. A good example of the first is the biographical part of
al-Dhahabi's comprehensive Ta' rfkh a/-Islam. An example of the latter is Taj
al-Di:n al-Subki's Tabaqiit al-shafi'iyah al-kubn2, a dictionary of the scholars
who followed the Shati'i rite in law. This book is structured according to
centuries, but not for convenience, rather because al-Subki believed that a
paramount position should be given to the tradition of the Prophet which says
that there will be a reformer (mujaddid) of Islam at the beginning of every
century. According to al-Subki, the reformer at the top of the second century
[A.H.] was al-Shafi 'f himself, the founder of the Shafi'f school (d. 204/819).
Every following century until al-Subki's time is shown to have had one great
scholar, the reformer, and he is, of course, from the Shafi'f school; in al-Subki's
book, this reformer normally gets a very long biography within that particular
century. By choosing this particular structure for his biographical dictionary,
then, al-Subki rendered a clear service to his school, in addition to serving
the principle of ease and smoothness.
8. Centuries and decades refer to time, But other biographical dictionaries
made place the basis of their structures, with or without considerations of time.
Those works that took place as their sole criterion are the biographical
dictionaries of cities, and those that took both time and place as their joint
criteria are some of the biographical dictionaries of litterateurs.
The biographical dictionaries of cities are numerous in the Arabic Islamic
library. We have dictionaries of the outstanding men of Damascus, Baghdad,
Cairo, Aleppo, Jurjan, Herat, Naysabur, Isfahan, Granada, Bijayah, and others;
even a small town like Darayya, in the vicinity of Damascus, found a historian
who recorded the biographies of its illustrious men in Abd al-Jabbar al-
Khawlanf (d. after 365/975), in his Ta'rfkh Diirayyii. Two things must be noted
about this category of biographical dictionaries. The first is that they begin
to appear clearly only by the fourth/tenth century.
47
The second is that the first
products in this category, al-Narshakhfs (d. after 322/943) Ta'rfkh Bukhiirii,
and AbU al-'Arab Tamfm's (d. 333/954) Tabaqiit 'ulnma' Ajrfqfyii wa-TUnis,
were not centered around any of the larger centers of learning in the heart of
the caliphallands (Damascus, Baghdad, Cordoba, Cairo), but around farther
and less central Islamic cities. These two things, when they are put together,
are quite telling: the branch of "histories of cities" within the genre of
biographical dictionaries is not an early one; it starts with the beginning of
the weakening of the central caliphate and the emergence of other centers of
political power in the Islamic empire. Narshakhfs book on the history of
Bukhani is a case in point. Although its Arabic original has been lost (only
a Persian abridgement has survived
48
), what is certainly known about it is that
108 al-Qil4I
it was presented in 322/943 to the Samanid amir N a ~ r ibn Nuh. As is well
known, the Samanids, with their capital at Bukhiirii, had been one of the earliest
assertive dynasties who in reality, though not in appearance, were practically
independent of the central government in Baghdad. As I see it it was only natural
that their assertiveness and practical independence should express itself in a
separate history of the city of Bukhiirii. One finds a similar case in the later
work of 'Abd al-Ghafir ibn Isma'il al-Fiirisfs (529/1134), Kitiib al-siyiiq li-ta'rikh
Naysabur. This biographical history of the city of Nishapur did not get written
until Nishapur had become a regional capital under the Seljuks. Abu al-'Arab
Tamim's book on the scholars of Qayrawiin and Thnis also has something to
do with assertiveness, albeit in a different way. AbU al- 'Arab wrote his book
in a distant province that had already been virtually independent from the central
government in Baghdad for over a century, under the Aghlabids. But in the
meantime, another power had come to take control in Thnis (in 909): the lsmii'ilf
Shi'ites-the Fatimids. As a staunch Sunni, Maliki scholar, AbU al-'Arab not
only refused to admit the new political realities, he actually fought against them.
And one way in which he showed his combative, assertive attitude was by writing
a book on the scholars of his proud province in its good, pre-Shi'ite days. Thus,
only Sunni, mainly Maliki, scholars are included in his book, and no Ismii'ili
Shi'ite ones are mentioned.
Once the "histories of cities" had become a fixed genre, other books on
other cities followed. But Baghdad did not get its share until one century and
a half after Bukharii, with al-Khatib al-Baghdadi's Ta'rikh Baghdad, and
Damascus had to wait over a century after that to get its own history with Ibn
'Asakir's (d. 57111175) 'Ih'rikh madinat Dirnashq.
Finally, whereas most of the biographical dictionaries of cities include the
biographies of persons of all disciplines who lived in those cities, there were
some works whose biographies were restricted to people of specific disciplines
or professions, within specific cities. A good example of this comes, once again,
from Andalusian namely al-Khushani's (d. 366/976) book on the judges of
Cordoba, QUI/iit Qurtubah. Though relatively early, this restriction to the genre
never took root in Islamic writing, for understandable reasons, and the books
that were produced along its lines remained very few.
9. The regional histories of literature were also late to appear, for reasons
similar to those which led to the relatively late appearance of the genre of
histories of cities, and none of them appears before the breakup of the central
government in Baghdad and the emergence of mini-states, which were often
ruled dynastically. The rulers of these states took it upon themselves to play
the role of the patrons of art, in imitation of the former, reigning dynasty of
the Abbasids and their magnanimous great viziers. AbU M a n ~ u r al-Tha'alibl
(d. 429/1037) was the first author to attempt such a regional history of literature.
In his famous Yatfrnat al-dahr, he recorded the biographies of only contem-
poraneous and near-contemporaneous literary figures, those of the fourth/tenth
and early fifth/eleventh centuries. To this general criterion of time, the more
specific criterion of place is added, and is made to act as the basic structural
element on the book. As the author says in his introduction, the Yatimah is
divided into four "geographical" parts (with a strong "dynastic" slant to most
of them):
a. the litterateurs of the l:lamdanids and the poets of their court (i.e.,
Aleppo, the Jazlrah, and northern Syria) among others of the litterateurs
of Syria, Mosul, and the Maghrib;
b. the litterateurs of Iraq and those connected with the Buyids;
c. the litterateurs of the provinces of al-Jabal, Fars, Jurjan, Tabaristiin,
and the city of Isfahan;
d. the litterateurs of the provinces of Khurasiin, especially Nishapur,
and Transoxiana. and those connected with the Samanids and the
Ghaznavids.
49
In each of the parts of this main structure, there are sections, or subdivisions,
constructed along geographical lines; the biographies of the individual
litterateurs full into the various sections in accordance with the city or region
with which they are most closely affiliated. Thus, we have a chapter on the
poets of Jurjan, another on the poets of Baghdad, and so forth; even a relatively
small town like Bust gets a separate section.
It is not surprising that a number of biographical dictionaries dealing with
regional literary history appeared in Andalusia. Here this phenomenon expresses
the same vein of self-assertion and rebellion against the accusation of servility
to the East that we have met in the "continuation" sub-genre of biographical
dictionaries. Ibn Bassam made this very clear in his introduction to al-
Dhakhirah, as mentioned above.
50
His book is actually a clear example of a
regional literary biographical dictionary which takes the criterion of place, within
Andalusia, as a major structural criterion.
51
One gets the biographies of the
Central Andalusians, including the Cordobans, first, then the Andalusians of
the West, including the Sevilleans, then those of the East, including the
Valencians, and finally the biographies of the non-Andalusians who flourished
in Andalusia.
52
A century later, another literary history of Andalusia was written,
al-Mughrib fi }Jula al-Maghrib, by Ibn Sa'Id al-Andalusl (d. 685/1286). This
book also followed the regional divisions, beginning with Western Andalusia,
followed by Central Andalusia and ending with Eastern Andalusia.
53
10. The dictionaries which record the biographies of the Twelver Shi'ites
and those ofthe Sufis require special attention, since their inner structures and
the way these structures changed over time are culturally significant.
The first thing one notes about Twelver Shi'ite biographical dictionaries
is that none of them appears before the beginning of the fourth/tenth century.
This is as understandable as it is significant. The twelfth imam went into
llO al-Q04I
occultation in the second half of the third/ninth century, and some time was
needed after that to figure out who was going to continue to believe in him,
thereby finishing the cycle of adherence to the basic bnami cause. The fourth/
tenth century was also the period when Imarni theology and law began to
crystallize and be articulated in the works of such scholars as al-Kiili:nl (d.
329/941) and al-Shaykh al-Mufid (d. 412/1022). That compiling biographical
dictionaries came about at the same time or slightly thereafter is, thus, entirely
understandable.
The first Twelver biographical dictionary we have is that of al-Kishshl (d.
ca. 360/970), entitled Ikhtiyiir nw'rifat al-rijiil or Rijiil al-Kishshi. The structure
that the author chose for his book is very difficult to ascertain. At first sight
the structure seems to be chronological, but then this principle falters here and
there; at times one thinks that the order of the biographies follows a vague
alphabetical arrangement, but then this principle also falters. Two things make
the structure of the book even more obscure. These are the sparsity of dates
in the biographies, and the fact that it is so filled with l,ladlth material that one
almost loses sight of its essential biographical set-up. All these considerations
are culturally significant. Above all, they indicate that, for the Twelver Shi'ites,
the vision of what constituted a member of their community had not been
sufficiently clarified yet, and that writing a biographical dictionary meant, at
that time, embarking on a new genre unattempted before. In this particular
respect, the multiplicity of criteria in the inner structure of al-Kishshi's book
can perhaps be compared to that of Ibn Sa'd's Tabaqiit; after all, both were
pioneering dictionaries in their respective spheres.
After al-Kishshl, the Twelver Shi'ite biographical dictionaries become
clearer in inner structure. One sees this in the two dictionaries which succeeded
Kishshfs work immediately, namely al-Najashfs (d. 450/1058) Rijiil al-Najiishi
and al-Tiisi's (d. 460/1067) Rijiil al-Tftsi. Since these two authors were
contemporaries, it is difficult to ascertain which of their books appeared first.
However, judging by the structures of these books, it seems to me that Tiisi's
Rijiil was compiled before al-Najashfs. The reason is that whereas al-Najashl
arranged his biographies essentially alphabetically (according to the earlier
Bukhari model), indicating a simplification and refinement of the genre within
Twelver Shi'ism, al-Tiisl arranged them according to the rather more complex
principle of "discipleship" to the various imams, beginning with the disciples
of 'Ali and ending with the disciples of the twelfth imam. Al-Tiisfs arrangement,
in principle, should have made his biographies roughly chronological in order.
But this actually does not happen, especially since one person could have been
the disciple of more than one imam, whence his biography would be repeated
twice, three times, or even more. To this already complex set-up another factor
is added, namely the manner in which the biographies are to be arranged within
the discipleship of the individual imam. AI-Tiisl chose the rough alphabetical
Biographical Dictionaries ll1
principle (all the people with the same first name are grouped together), thereby
easing the flow of his biographies to some extent. The sum total of the situation
is that al-Tusfs book reveals certain, if few, traits of struggle with the genre;
whence my assumption that it was written before al-Najashfs only relatively
smoothly structured book.
11. The biographical dictionaries of the Sufis are interesting in what they
reveal. Like many other sub-genres of biographical dictionaries, they do not
begin to appear until quite late, at the beginning of the fifth/eleventh century.
As in the case of the Twelver Shi'ite biographical dictionaries, this is as
understandable as it is significant. Sufism is a phenomenon that does not belong
to the founding decades of Islam, but to a later period, after asceticism had
taken root in society and had undergone a deep metamorphosis in the direction
of spirituality and social and intellectual complexity. The first book we have
of this genre, al-Sulamfs (d. 412/1021) Tabaqiit al-!fuftyah, does not reveal a
particular sensitivity to this issue of late date, although one does find in it a
certain desire for "historicizing" Sufism. The biographies in the book are
arranged chronologically, beginning with the earliest Sufi (al-Fuc;layl ibn 'Iyad)
and ending with contemporary Sufis (the last one is Abu 'Abd Allah al-
Dfnawari), but no attempt is made to consider patricians like 'Ali or al-I:Iasan
as forerunners of Sufis or as Sufis proper. And the same principles
are noted in some of the later dictionaries, such as al-Qushayrf's (d. 465/1072)
al-Risiilah al-qushayriyah. When, however, one reaches the work of Abu
Nu'aym (d. 430/1038), his f!ilyat al-awliyii', the situation changes
completely. There, almost all the great figures of Islam who have been known
for their outstanding piety, asceticism or great learning are considered "awliyii"
just like the Sufis. Thus, the biography of the Companion 'Umar ibn al-Khattab
stands side by side in the book with that of the Follower al-l:lasan
the jurist al-Shiifi'i, and the Sufi al-Junayd. The underlying assumption of the
author is further strengthened by lengthy citations from the words/works of
all those people, giving credibility to the criterion used. Over a century after
Abu Nu'aym, Ibn al-Jawzf (d. 597/1200) had the opportunity to write a
biographical dictionary of the Sufis, his Sifat al-!fafwah, in whose introduction
he criticized Abu Nu'aym for placing so many non-Sufis among his "awliyii' ."
He, however, not only followed the wide criterion of Abu Nu'aym, he widened
it even further by including in his book a long biography of the and
a large number of biographies of people without names (for examples 'Abidah
min jabal Lubniin). This way, Sufism, through the later expressions of the genre
of biographical dictionaries, was given greater validity, legitimacy, and even
roots, in the very foundation of Islam.
CONCLUSIONS
I have tried to examine biographical dictionaries as a cultural and intellectual
phenomenon in classical Islamic civilization, rather than as merely a large
--------
112 al-Qii/I
number of compilations within the Arabic Islamic library. This point of
departure permitted me, first, to consider all the biographical dictionaries as
variant expressions of one single genre, and, second, to relate the appearance
(or lack thereof) of one sub-genre or another of biographical dictionaries to
the progressive intellectual and cultural development of the Islamic community
in the first nine centuries of Islam. There were several consequences for taking
this approach, among them that this paper could not lay any claims to
exhaustiveness whatsoever; a single example sufficiently representative of one
facet or another of the genre under discussion would be enough. Furthermore,
the discussion, in the latter part of the paper, of the biographical dictionaries
in some specific areas (Twelver Shi'ism, Sufism) is also not exhaustive; one
may wish to experiment with other specific types of biographical dictionaries
(those on the philosophers and physicians, for example). But even there the
results reached should not be significantly different from what the sample study
here offers. On a constructive level, the approach has permitted me to draw
some conclusions. The first of these is that the genre of biographical dictionaries
emerged only at the time when Islamic civilization was starting to have a definite
identity, one which was primarily religious, with a linguistic (Arabic-Qur'anic)
and poetic touch to it. In the latter capacity, it portrayed its incorporation of
the pre-Islamic Arabic tradition; in the former, although it perceived itself as
an heir to the religious heritage of the Near East, it had a definite, specific,
individual color to it: an Islamic one, with a new beginning to the tradition.
It is because of this that the first biographical dictionary we have, Ibn Sa'd's
Tabaqiit, begins with the Sirah of the Prophet, and the Sirah assumes almost
a quarter of the size of his multivolume book. But if the Prophet represents
the main symbol of the new identity, others also are made to contribute to this
identity and to pose as models for the new community through innumerable
details of their lives, careers, behaviors, and attitudes. Moreover, those symbols
are judged first and foremost in accordance with their temporal proximity to
the new phase of human history; hence the introduction of the criterion of
"siibiqah" in the first, fundamental part of the book. The second part, based
essentially on the criterion of place or locale, is also connected with the nature
of the development of the new community. Its habitat now covers (after the
conquests) a large area from Egypt in the west to Khurasan in the east. These
new, pride-evoking physical realities bring with them, as the structure of Ibn
Sa'd's biographical dictionary would indicate to us, other new realities which
may not be as positive as the first, namely that they cause the Muslim authorities
to live far apart from each other and to develop variant visions of the new
religion; hence the primacy of the "narrator-source" criterion (within the
geographical one) in the part on the fullowers and their followers in the book.
Even if perceived as regrettable, the fact is admitted. And admission means
confidence: the variations can be recorded only because the finalization of the
identity is already in place, on its way to being complete. Let us remember
that Ibn Sa'd wrote his book just at the time when the mi}Jnah was underway,
and when the opposition to its course, though small, was not unpromising. A
new era was coming, and Ibn Sa'd's biographical dictionary conveys a sense
of the approach of the new identity of the majority of the Muslim community,
along with the seeds of a final vision of Islam.
The genre of biographical dictionaries, once begun, continued and
developed. This development took a clear line of greater specialization, reflecting
the further identification of Muslim groups within the community. At the time
when Ibn Sa'd was writing, specialization was as yet unclear among the religious
authorities. By the next generation, that of Al_lmad ibn }:lanbal al-Bukhiiri, the
badith transmitters had already emerged as a specialized (and victorious) group,
after decades of unconscious building of the image (and reality) of that specialty;
hence the beginning of a series of biographical dictionaries right from that
generation onwards. The jurists came to emerge as a specialized group shortly
thereafter. Biographical dictionaries about them, however, did not emerge until
much later, in the fifth/eleventh century, and that was due to developments within
the ranks of the jurists themselves. Right from the beginning, the jurists posed
as representatives of different local traditions (the l:lijiiz, Iraq, Syria, Egypt),
thereby ending up with "founding" followers, of "schools," as they are called,
each having varying positions in legal details and outlook. It was not until these
schools were fully established (with some dying out), at the end of the
fourth/tenth century, that the image of the jurists was clear enough to warrant
biographical dictionaries which recorded their numbers, views, and achieve-
ments; hence the appearance of Abii Isbiiq al-Shiriizi's '[abaqiit al-fuqaha' in
the fifth/eleventh century. With the development of serious animosities between
the schools, however, especially in Baghdad and the East in the fourth/tenth
and fifth/eleventh centuries, more specialized biographical dictionaries of the
jurists of each school began to be compiled. Something similar happened in
the field of badith, albeit for different reasons, essentially that of authentication-
a matter considered of great importance right from the appearance of the first
biographical dictionary of the genre, Bukhiiri's al-Ta'rikh al-kabir.
As in the case of the people of badith and law, other groups came to have
biographical dictionaries of their own people, but only after their groups could
be identified clearly. Since the identity of the Twelver Shi'ites did not become
final until the disappearance of the twelfth imam in second half of the third/ninth
century, no Twelver biographical dictionary could appear befure the following
century. Similarly, the tardiness in the emergence of Sufism until the beginning
of the third/ninth century caused the delay in the appearance of the first Sufi
biographical dictionary until the next century.
The appearance of biographical dictionaries dealing with people associated
with particular cities is related to the emergence of some cities as regional
114 al-Qii4I
capitals for semi-independent dynasties, the result of a dwindling of the power
of the central caliphate; hence its first systematic expressions did not come out
before the fourth/tenth century, in connection with cities in the peripheries,
not in the center. Bukhi:ira, the capital of the Sarnanids, was probably the first
to come out. It is to be noted, however, that there are some biographical
dictionaries in this sub-genre whose explanation cannot stem from this particular
political development, 'Abd al-Jabbar al-Khawlanfs Ta' rikh Diirayyii being a
stark example. In a case such as this, one has to think of the author's individual
motives. In the case of 'Abd al-Jabbar al-Khawlanl, pride in his town and stock
was the reason behind his compiling his book. In the cases of the two huge
compendia, al-Baghdadl's Ta'nKh Baghdad and Ibn 'Asakir's Ta'rikh
madinat Dimashq, the motive was not only pride but also, perhaps, a com-
bination of hope and the fear of change; the winds of change were blowing
strongly in Baghdad in the latter half of the fifth/eleventh century, and in
Damascus in the latter half of the following century.
Of all the regions addressed by biographical dictionaries in the Arabic
Islamic library, Andalusia (and, by extension, the Maghrib) deserves special
attention. Its output of biographical dictionaries is connected to a great extent
with the intellectual and cultural crisis that its scholars underwent at the
beginning of the fifth/eleventh century, following several years of devastating
civil strife at the close of the previous century, the notorious "al-fitnah al-
barbariyah," and the subsequent loss of political unity in the peninsula. This
crisis, as expressed by two of the most towering intellectuals of Andalusia, Ibn
l:layyan and Ibn l:lazm, both of whom had witnessed the civil war, centered
around the widespread vision that the Andalusians adored any model of thought
or literature that came from the East, and that, subsequently, Andalusian
literature and thought were a mere imitation of their counterparts in the East;
they thus lacked originality and a local identity. It is in this atmosphere that
the Andalusian biographical dictionaries grew larger and larger in number.
Building on the pre-civil war, though young, tradition of biographical
dictionaries (al-Khiishanfs Qu4at Qurtubah and Ibn al-Fara<;li's Tabaqiit
al-'ulamii' wa-al-ruwiit lil-'ilm bi-al-Andalus), the post-civil war authors
concentrated heavily on their peninsula, and produced many biographical
dictionaries and continuations thereof. It is within this vision that we have to
see the biographical dictionaries of Ibn Bassam, Ibn Bashkiiwal, Ibn al-Abbar,
Ibn 'Abd a!-Malik al-Marrakishl, Ibn Sa'ld al-Andalusi, and even the later works
of Ibn and al-Maqqan. The large accumulation of literary output was
probably at the basis of the appearance of regional literary histories such as
al-Tha'alibfs Yatimat al-dahr and later al-'lmad al-Katib's al-Kharidah. As
expected, Andalusia had its share in this sub-genre.
Although Arabic Islamic biographical dictionaries emerged at the time of
the maturity oflslarnic civilization, in their first expressions they reveal a relative
degree of difficulty in the presentation of their materials. This is due to their
attempt at comprehensiveness-a thing quite new in compilation at the beginning
of the third/ninth century. What was common before that was the format of
the single biography, and they were attempting to put scores of biographies
together, making them, at the same time, portray their respective visions of
the contemporary stage of the intellectual and cultural development of the Islamic
community then. This relative crudeness in inner structure, however, was soon
made more refined, and, with the passage of time, achieved complete smooth-
ness when full alphabetization became more or less the standard in compiling
biographical dictionaries. It has to be noted, however, that this process took
a very long time, and that the cruder forms continued to co-exist with the
smoother forms. In the area of I:tadlth in particular, the older forms survived
for some time, due to the nature of the discipline (the importance of locating
the transmitters in time for the authenticity question), and Dhahabi's huge Sfyar
a'liim al-nubalii' of the eighth/fourteenth century is an instructive example in
this respect. And even when full smoothness was achieved, its form was
sometimes interrupted by the piety element (beginning biographical dictionaries
with "Muhammads," among other things), making the inner structures of some
biographical dictionaries occasionally less than straightforward.
Perhaps what still needs explanation is the whole phenomenon of bio-
graphical dictionaries, for it seems that there are few cultures which have been
as prolific in producing biographical dictionaries in premodern times as the
Arabic branch oflslamic culture.
54
But this is a huge topic that requires separate
examination.
NOI"ES
1. The death date of an author will be mentioned only at the first occurrence
of that author's name, unless it proves particularly useful in a certain context
to repeat that information.
2. R. S. Humphreys, Islamic History: A Framework for Inquiry (revised
edition, Princeton, 1991), p. 188.
3. The close association between "(abaqiit" and "ta' rfkh" is very old indeed
and dates back to the early stages of the development of the genre in Islam.
For one thing, the titles of a sizeable number of biographical dictionaries begin
with the word "ta'rfkh," history [of], such as Bukhari's al-Ta'rfkh al-kabfr and
Ibn 'Asakir's Ta'rfkh madinat Dimashq (on which see below). For another,
several of the foremost compilers of biographical dictionaries have identified
their respective works as works of history. Ibn Khallikan, for example, says
in his introduction to his celebrated Ubfayiit al-a')iin, ed. II:tsan 'Abbas, 8 vols.
116 al-Qlu/I
(Beirut, 1971-75), 1:19 (on which see below): "This is a concise work in the
science of history [hadha al-tan-kh]"; there is also (perhaps
consequently) a discussion as to whether or not Ibn Khallikan's Wafayiit is
actually his very same al-Ta'rfkh al-kahir (see Il)san 'Abbas' study of the Wafayiit
in ibid., 8:69-71 (of the pagination in Arabic numerals). More significantly,
the late medieval Muslim historiographers place the various kinds of biographical
dictionaries among the branches of historical writing. The most notable among
these are Shams al-Dln al-Dhahabi (d. 748/1347), whose expose is preserved
in al-Sakhawi's al-fliin bi-al-tawbikh li-man dhamma al-ta'rfkh (Cairo, 1349
[A.H.]), pp. 84-108, tr. in F. Rosenthal, A History of Muslim Historiography
(Leiden, 1952), pp. 316-58; al-Sakhaw1 (d. 902/1496), in his al-flan, ibid.,
pp. 104-69, tr. Rosenthal, pp. 358-450; Tiishkopriiziidah (d. 968/1560), in his
Miftii}J al-sa'iidah (second edition, Haydarabad, 1977), 1:231-48, 263-66 (under
the rubric 'ilm al-tawiirfkh), tr. Rosenthal, pp. 452-56; and Hajji Khali:fah (d.
1067/1657), in his Kashfal-zunun 'an asiimi al-kutub wa-al-funun (Offset copy
of the Istanbul edition, Baghdad, n.d.) 1:271-333 (under the rubric "'ilm al-
ta'rikh"), but also 2:1095-1107 (under the rubric "'ilm al-tabaqiit").
4. Several works on Islamic history and historiography discuss biographical
dictionaries. See, in chronological order, H.A.R. Gibb, "Ta'rlkh," in Encyclo-
pedia of Islam (first edition), Supplement, pp. 233-45; I. Lichtenstadter, "Arabic
and Islamic Historiography," Muslim Ubrld35 (1945), pp. 126-32; F. Rosenthal,
op. cit., pp. 88-94 and passim.; and R.S. Humphreys, Islamic History, op.
cit., pp. 188-207 and passim. Sir Hamilton Gibb, in his article "Islamic
Biographical Literature" (in Historians of the Middle East, ed. B. Lewis and
P.M. Holt [London, 1962], p. 54), says that "the composition of biographical
dictionaries in Arabic developed simultaneously and in close association with
historical composition." Rosenthal (p. 89) goes even further and states that "In
many Muslim minds, history thus became synonymous with biography." Much
ofT. Khalidi 's discussion in his article "Islamic Biographical Dictionaries: A
Preliminary Assessment," Muslim Ubrld 63 (1973 ), pp. 53-65, is based on
the relationship between history and biographical dictionary.
5. Rosenthal, op. cit., pp. 88-89, where the biographical component of
Greek and Roman historical literature is mentioned.
6. According to Rosenthal (ibid., p. 89), "That biography shared in Muslim
historiography from the beginning and that it eventually achieved a dominating
position in it is obvious."
7. Ibid., pp. 89-90. Rosenthal mentions among those reasons the interest
in the Prophet Muhammad's biography, the dogmatic struggle in Islam, the desire
of the, historians to be useful and employable, and the Muslims' "firm conviction
that all politics was the work of individuals and understandable in the light
of their personal qualities and experiences .... Under the influence of theology,
even the history of the various branches of learning was conceived as a collection
of biographies of the outstanding scholars" (p. 89). This last point was mentioned
also by Gibb in "Islamic Biographical Literature," p. 54.
8. For the brief surveys, see Heffening, "Thbakat," in Encyclopaedia of
Islam (first edition), Suppl.: 214-15; M. Abiad, "Origine et developpement
des dictionnaires biographiques arabes," Bulletin d'Etudes Orientales 31 (1979
[1980]), pp. 7-15. For detailed surveys, see I. Hafsi, "Recherches sur le genre
tabaqat," Arabica 23 (1976), pp. 227-65 and 24 (1977), pp. 1-41, 150-86, which
deals with the biographical dictionaries reported in the sources, regardless of
whether they have survived or not; P. Auchterlonie, Arabic Biographical
Dictionaries: A Summary Guide and Bibliography (Durham, 1987), which,
contrary to Hafsi's work, lists only the published works, and "only the best-
known, fullest and most useful biographical dictionaries" (p. 1). All of the
medieval Muslim historiographers mentioned in n. 3 above include in their
respective exposes surveys of the biographical dictionaries known to them. See
also 0. Loth, "Ursprung und Bedeutung der Thbakat vornehmlich der des Ibn
Sa'd," Zeitschrifl der Deutschen Morgenlandischen Gesellschaft 23 (1869), pp.
593-614; G. Levi Della Vida, "Sira," in Encyclopaedia of Islam (first edition),
4:439-43; N. Abbott, Studies in Arabic Literary Papyri, I: Historical Texts
(Chicago, 1957), pp. 5-31, esp. 7-8; W. al-Qii<;li, "Biography," in Companion
to Arabic Literature, ed. J. Meisami (London: Routledge, forthcoming).
9. In particular, the oorks of Gibb and Khalidi mentioned above, but mainly
those of Rosenthal and Humphreys. Hafsi's long article has many analytical
insights, but its structure does not permit these insights to stand out clearly.
10. Khalidi, for example, says (p. 55): "The final purpose, for all these
writers, is moral edification and/or the acquisition of a skill which would enable
the Muslim to understand and practice his religion to better advantage." Gibb's
concept (p. 54) is more complex: "the conception that underlies the older
biographical dictionaries is that the history of the Islamic community is essen-
tially the contribution of individual men and women to the building up and
transmission of its specific culture; that it is these persons (rather than the
political governors) who represent or reflect the active forces in Muslim society
in their respective spheres; and that their individual contributions are worthy
of being recorded for future generations."
11. There is agreement among scholars that biographical dictionaries are
an indigenous, not "imported," Arabic Islamic genre; see Gibb, op. cit., p.
54; Khalidi, op. cit., p. 53; Abiad, op. cit., p. 9.
118 al-Qii4I
12. Modern scholars have suggested a number of "disciplines" as
"predecessors" tOr the biographical dictionaries, notably history, l)adi:th/):ladlth
criticism, or both; see, Loth, op. cit., pp. 593-601; Heffening, op. cit., p. 215;
Gibb, opo. cit., p. 54; Khalidi, op. cit., pp. 53, 59-60; Hafsi, op. cit., p. 227.
13. This overlaps with the previous category somewhat. In addition to
history and ):ladi:th/):ladHh criticism, the genres of ayyiim (pre-Islamic battles
of the Arabs), genealogy, rna' iithir-mathiilib (virtues and vices) literature, and
biography are suggested; see Loth, op. cit., pp. 598-99; Della Vida, op. cit.,
p. 440; Lichtenstadter, op. cit., p. 129; Rosenthal, op. cit., p. 88; Gibb, op.
cit., pp. 54-58; but mainly Abiad, op. cit., pp. 9-12.
14. Organization is particularly discussed by Abiad and Hafsi.
15. These are very difficult to enumerate, since they vary tremendously
from author to author; nevertheless, see Gibb, op. cit., p. 55; Khalidi, op. cit.,
pp. 60-62.
16. Such as name, descent, field, craft, teachers, students, date of death,
character, virtues, resume of career, revealing anecdotes, compilations, and
so on; see Gibb op. cit., pp. 56-57; Rosenthal, op. cit., pp. 90-91; Khalidi,
op. cit., pp. 62-64; but above all, Humphreys, op. cit., pp. 190-93.
17. Such as Rosenthal and Humphreys. Khalidi is interested in the later
medieval period (fifth/eleventh through the twelfth/eighteenth century). Hafsi
makes many comments about the development of the genre, but the structure(s)
he chose for his article make those comments diffused here and there, and hence
less clear than they could be. In spite of the promise in its title, Abiad's article
does not have much to say on the question of development.
18. One remark in which the relationship is made is in Humphreys'
discussion of the change in the criteria of inclusion in biographical dictionaries
between the early dictionaries and those compiled in the fourth/tenth century.
He says (op. cit., p. 189) "The earlier dictionaries attempted to provide
comprehensive coverage for those broad classes ():ladlth specialists or poets,
usually) which they included in their purview. But in the 4th/10th century we
see a growing tendency to include only subgroups, defined by place of residence,
legal or theological sect, etc. Such changes in the criteria tOr inclusion have
important cultural implications, obviously; thus there seems to be a feeling that
one's Islam is not defined by his fidelity to Scripture (Qur'an and ):ladi:th), but
by the way in which he interprets it, or that a locality can properly be a Muslim's
primary (though not ultimate) focus of cultural identity."
19. Gibb (op. cit., p. 54) suggests, for example, that the study of biographical
dictionaries entails finding "the evidence it supplies or indicates as to changing
or enduring social and intellectual attitudes or trends."
20. Several scholars note, for example, that the early dictionaries were
concerned mainly with religious scholars and then broadened their scope (see
n. 18 above). Other scholars make additional remarks here and there. Gibb
( op. cit., p. 58), for example, notes how the dictionaries "supply almost the
sole materials for the social activities and status of women in Muslim
communities" and that the "agricultural and industrial arts are thinly repre-
sented ... although trade and economic activities are by no means neglected
in the Mamluk and later dictionaries." Similarly, Humphreys notes ( op. cit.,
p. 189) that it is "striking and instructive" that "the productive classes of
society-the farmers, merchants, and artisans-never made it into the diction-
aries as such, though a few persons of such background do appear under a
more respectable rubric."
21. Some scholars, notably HatSi (op. cit., pp. 229-34), and before him
Heffening ( op. cit., pp. 214-15), discussed the various meanings of the word
"(abaqiit." The numerous identifications offered by Hafsi, in particular, are
quite revealing, as they demonstrate the rather complex meaning(s) of the term
when it is used in different contexts over the ages. He says (p. 229): "Le terme
tabaqa, au singulier, designe le rang attribue a un groupe de personnages ayant
joue un role dans l'histoire a un titre ou a un autre, classe en fonction de criteres
determines d'ordre religieux, culture!, scientifique, artistique, etc."; and on p.
230, he adds: "tabaqa signifie, suivant les epoques: classe, valeur, generation,
merite, degre et groupe." Still on p. 233, he says: "tabaqa evoque egalement
!'idee de gradation." As for Heffening, his identification is shorter and more
direct: "The word means when used of place: similar, lying above one another,
and with regard to time: similar, following one another ... and
especially: ... generation, stratum or category ... in hadith: the men included
in one tabaqa are those who have heard traditions from those in the preceding
one and have transmitted to the members of the following category."
22. See above, n. 4.
23. The words "mashyaklwh" and "bamamij" are identical in signification,
but the first term is used in the Muslim East, the second in the Muslim West.
In Andalusia and the Maghrib, the term "fahrasah" is also used (as in Fahrasat
ibn Khayr).
24. There are other, earlier dictionaries which have been lost and whose
structure is, hence, impossible to determine. They include: Tabqaiit ahl
120 al-Qii4I
al-'ilm wa-al-jahl (classes ofthe learned and the ignorant), by W ~ i l ibn "Atii'
(d. 1311748); Tabaqilt al-shu'arii' (classes of poets), by al-Yazidi (d. 200/815);
Tabaqiit al-fuqahii' wa-al-muhaddithin (classes of jurists and l:tadith trans-
mitters/traditionists) and Tabaqiit man rawa 'an al-Nabi (classes of transmitters
from the Prophet), by al-Haytham ibn 'Adi (d. 207/822); Tabaqiit al-fursiin
(classes of cavaliers), by Abu 'Ubaydah (d. 208/823); see Heffening, op. cit.,
p. 215 (copied in Abiad, p. 14). See also Hafsi, op. cit., p. 245. It is, however,
to be kept in mind that Ibn Sa' d's book may be very closely related to the work
of his teacher al-Wiiqidi (d. 207/822), who was of the same generations al-
Yazidi, al-Haytham ibn 'Ad! and Abu 'Ubaydah.
25. Cf. nn. 12 and 13 above.
26. al-Fihrist (ed. Ri<;lii Tajaddud, Tehran, 1971), pp. 105, 106.
27. Ibid., pp. 108, no.
28. Ibid., p. ll2.
29. See on this book and its structure, the old study of Loth mentioned
in n. 8 above, especially pp. 603-5; Gibb, op. cit., pp. 54-55 (where there
is a very brief survey of structure); and Hafsi, op. cit., pp. 229-30, 235, and
242-44, where the structure and criteria for organization are discussed without
an attempt at comprehensiveness.
30. Ibn Sa'd, Kitiib al-tabaqiit al-kabir (ed. E. Sachau, Leiden, 1905-40),
3:1.
31. For the significance of this order of the cities, see above the end of
section 1.
32. Since the term "tabaqah" need not indicate, strictly speaking, solely
the time factor (although Ibn Sa'd does mention "age" at some points); cf.
the meanings of "tabaqah" in n. 21 above.
33. See Ibn Sa'd, 6:90ff.
34. Ibid., p. 84ff.
35. Ibid.' p. 151ff.
36. Ibid., p. 115ff.
37. Ibid., p. 126ff.
38. That a whole volume is devoted to women is indeed noteworthy; see
also Gibb's remark in n. 20 above.
39. The last, ninth, volume of the printed edition contains only the editor's
notes.
40. On the structure of this dictionary, see Hafsi, op. cit., pp. 230, 239,
245-46. In the introduction to the best edition of the book (ed. MuJ:tammad
Mai).mud Shakir, second edition, Cairo, 1974), the editor provides an excellent
study of the work, including its structure.
42. Cf. Humphreys' remark in n. 18 above.
43. Jim Lindsay, of Westmont College, attracted my attention to a possible
earlier "dhayl," namely Dhayl ta'rikh mawiilid al-'ulamii' wa-wafayiitihim by
'Abd al-'Aziz ibn AJ:tmad al-Kattiini (d. 466/1074), which could be a continuation
of Mui).ammad ibn 'Abd Allah al-Raba'i's (d. 379/989) Ta'rfkh mawiilid
al-'ulamii' wa-wafayiitihim. Both books have been recently published in Riyad
in 1989 and 1990 respectively. Like Lindsay, however, I have not been able
to see those books, nor am I able to identify their authors.
44. On this phenomenon in Andalusia, see Ibn Bassam's sharp statement
in the introduction to hisal-Dhakhirah (ed.li).san 'Abbas, Beirut, 1979), 1:11-16.
45. Preserved in al-Maqqari, Nafo. al-tib (ed. IJ:tsan 'Abbas, Beirut, 1968),
3:156-79.
46. Ibn Sa'id also wrote an addendum to this epistle; see ibid., pp. 179-86,
as did al-Shiiqundi; see ibid., pp. 186-222.
47. A fuw books appeared slightly earlier, but they are not typically
biographical dictionaries. Ibn Abi Tahir Tayfiir's (d. 280/893) Kitiib Baghdad,
which has partially survived (Baghdad, 1968), is a literary chronicle, not a
biographical dictionary. Bahshal's (d. 292/905) Ta'rikh Wti$i(, which has
survived (ed. Kurlds 'Awwad, Baghdad, 1967), is similar to most other
dictionaries of cities in that it begins with an expose of the town of Wasit;
however, the entries in it can hardly be called biographies at all: their titles
carry persons' names, but the material under each rubric contains nothing other
122 al-Qii4I
than the l)adiths which those persons have transmitted. In that sense, the book
is closer in genre to Bukhiiri's al-'Rl' rikh al-kabir and similar works. See
Rosenthal, op. cit., pp. 83, 144-45.
48. Published in Tehran, 1351 [A.H.]. The book has been translated into
English as 1he History ofBukhara by Richard N. Frye (Cambridge, MA 1954).
49. See Yatimat al-dahr (reproduction of the Damascus edition, Beirut,
1979), 1:8-9.
51. In addition to the criterion of time, whence only contemporaries receive
biographies.
52. al-Dhakhirah, 1:22-32.
53. Ibn Sa'Id al-Andalusi, al-Mughrib fi IJ,ula al-Maghrib (ed. Shawqi I;>ayf,
Cairo, 1953), 1:33.
7
The Book in the Grammatical Tradition:
Development in Content and Methods
Ramzi Baalbaki
Through sheer coincidence, the word Kitiib has acquired special significance
in the field of Arabic grammar. The sudden and premature death of Sibawayhi
meant that his huge but unfinished and unnamed grammatical treatise had to
be given a name by his contemporaries. What better a name than "al-Kitiib"
could they come up with to reflect the grandeur and exhaustiveness of
Sibawayhi's (d. ca. 1801796) work? The term "al-Kitiib," which is an example
of an 'a/am bi-al-ghalabah,
1
can thus refer either to the Qur'an or to Sibawayhi's
treatise, which came to be known as Qur' iin al-na}Jw.
2
The Kitiib of Sibawayhi is striking in another aspect related to the concept
of "book" in Arabic grammatical tradition. It is the first grammatical work
written, and, at the same time, the most comprehensive and imposing among
a host of grammatical works that have survived. al-Kitiib, of course, did not
emerge from a vacuum, but it is overwhelming in its material, technical terms,
and analytic methods, given the relative scarcity of grammatical activity in the
pre-Sibawayhi period. What is more striking than the unexpected appearance
of this major work in grammar is that, unfortunately the later authors added
to it hardly anything of real value or importance as fur as material and terms
are concerned, but tried to depart from some of the analytic methods of
Sibawayhi and from the delicate balance he established between qiylls and samii'.
This departure is largely to blame for the post-Sibawayhi grammarians' inclina-
tion to prescriptiveness, and their subjugation of attested usage to a rigid set
of rules and to far-fetched explanations which have tarnished the image of na}Jw
and disgraced the na}Jwiyun, causing them to be viewed not only as poor
interpreters,
3
but also as insensitive to the intricacies of Arabic usage. This very
insensitivity was at the heart of the emergence of baliighah as a discipline distinct
from na}Jw, and the main reason for the lack of originality in the post-Sibawayhi
period, characterized by concern for the permissibility of usage-according
to the grammarians' criteria. Rather than be concerned with meaning and the
123
124 Baalbaki
disclosure of the impact of the context and the speaker's intention in using the
'awiimil (operants, regents), the grammarians' regimen converged on exhausting
the different kinds of 'awiimil and so-called 'ilal (reasons).
It is obvious that Sibawayhi's Kitab is the focal point in the history of Arabic
grammatical writing. Consequently, any study of the "book" in this grammatical
tradition is bound to have the Kitiib as its point of departure. The present author
proposes, in order to trace the development of the grammatical book, to examine
three stages in the history of Arabic grammar, based on Sibawayhi as the focal
point in this history, and according to the following scheme:
1. The pre-Sibawayhi stage, that is, the early grammatical activity
leading to and preceding the phase of ta'lif, and the reports about
grammatical writings in this period;
2. Sibawayhi's Kitiib, that is, its content, and the set of grammatical
notions and methods it portrays; and
3. The post-Sibawayhi stage, that is, the departure from Sibawayhi's
methods of grammatical analysis as exemplified in the work of the main
figure after Sibawayhi, namely, Mubarrad.
Although this scheme might appear to have been oversimplified so as to
suit the purpose of a general survey, it is basically an accurate representation
of the development of grammatical activity. It is lamentable that after Sibawayhi
one cannot discern any serious attempt at originality. Thus, the satisfaction with
only one post-Sibawayhi stage is a reflection of the irreversible tendency of
the grammarians of the third century onward toward complication, standardi-
zation and prescriptiveness, rather than a deliberate effort on our part to magnify
the schism between Sibawayhi and the later grammarians, at least with regard
to grammatical analysis.
The first reference to a "book" in the grammatical tradition is encountered
in the biography of the allegedly first grammarian, Abii al-Aswad al-Du'ali:
(d. 69/688).
4
It is, however, highly improbable that Abii al-Aswad, or anyone
trying to write preliminary notes on grammar, could have written a book on
grammar, as the account quoted by al-Suyiitl claims, unless by "book" no more
than a few pages are meant (hence the reference to it as al-Mukhta$ar
5
). It is
also highly improbable that this "book" could have covered na}Jw as such-as
other accounts, again quoted by al-Suyiitl, indicate-at this early stage. We are
thus left with the limited subjects mentioned in the different accounts.
6
These
are the following:
1. The parts of speech (kaliim): the noun (ism), which indicates a
denominative (mii anba'a 'an al-musammii), the verb (fi'l), which is a
movement (}Jarakah, i.e., in time), and the particle (}Jar/), which has a
meaning not signified by the first two parts. The nouns are further divided
into explicit nouns, pronouns, and what is neither of those.
The Book in the Grammatical Tradition 125
2. The particles governing the accusative: inna, anna, laysa (!),
la'alla, ka'anna, and liikinna. A few other "operants" are mentioned in
other accounts, namely, those which govern raf (nominative and/or
indicative), na$b (accusative and/or subjunctive), khaf4 (genitive) andjazm
(jussive).
3. Three disparate topics: subject and object, admirative constructions,
and the construct state.
These subjects, apart from the first, might well have been those that
captured the attention of the grammarians of the first and early second centuries,
especially since they are the very subjects liable to solecism (la/pl), which is
a major factor in the initiation of Arabic grammatical thinking? The division
of kalam into parts could hardly have taken place at this stage, as it was of
no great importance to the pedagogical aims of the grammarians then. Moreover,
the resemblance between the division into parts of speech and their functions,
in the accounts of Abu al-Aswad writing down 'All's views, on the one hand,
and Sibawayhi's treatment of the subject, on the other, can be understood as
part of the attempt to credit 'All with laying the foundations of grammar,
especially since parts of speech are given precedence in the Kitab, and are
discussed in its very first lines.
8
It seems absolutely clear that the concept of qiyas did not cross the minds
of grammarians at this stage. Not only is there no mention of it in the accounts,
but also the timid and confused attempt at classifying particles (manifested in
the inclusion of laysa with five other particles followed by nouns in the
accusative) does not seem to correspond at all to the concept of qiyas as used
by later grammarians. Neither does it indicate that 'ami! and 'amal were of
interest in themselves at this stage, as the arrangement according to regimen
seems to be initiated only for didactic purposes. One can therefore safely dismiss
Ibn Salliim's statement that Abu al-Aswad was the one who laid the foundation
of Arabic (grammar) (awwal man assasa al-'Arabiyah), and was also the first
one to have devised grammatical qiyas.
9
Unlike the largely unrealistic and unfounded reports on the grammatical
activity-especially in writing-of Abu al-Aswad and his contemporaries, we
possess reliable material on the pre-Sibawayhi grammarians of the second
century, mainly from Sibawayhi himself. The importance of the grammatical
stage following the primitive beginnings of grammatical activity, and preceding
that of Sibawayhi, lies in the use of qiyas as a method of grammatical analysis,
an analytical technique which later became the backbone of Arabic grammar.
The main figures of this intermediate stage are:
1. 'AbdAllah ibn Abi Isl:liiq (d. 1171735): He is mentioned seven times
by Sibawayhi,
10
and these mentions hardly substantiate the view that he
represents a trend highly dependent on qiyas,
11
or that he is the first
grammarian who can be identified as "Basran."
12
126 Baalbaki
2. 'Isa ibn 'Umar (d. 1491766): From the twenty references to him in
the Kitiib, a number of which simply quote him as a transmitter of certain
specific usages, 'Isii cannot be considered as a representative of the qiyiisi
trend
13
in the same sense the term came to acquire with Sibawayhi and
the later grammarians. In other words, the sophistication characteristic of
later qiyas cannot apply to him, although one can detect in some of his
ideas
14
a tendency to compare two sentences or phrases and infer that one
was given the same treatment as the other on the grounds of their similarity.
3. Abii 'Amr ibn al-'Ala' (d. 1541770): In his Tabaqat,
15
Zubaydilists
him both under the nal]wiyiin and the lughawiyiin. However, evidence from
the Kitab, in which he is quoted fifty-seven times, shows that while the
term lughawi, lexicographer, is easily applicable to him, the term nal]wi,
grammarian, is hardly so. He is quoted mainly in relation to Qur'anic
readings,
16
transmission of poetry,t? and usages by Arabs,
18
in addition to
some of his explanations and reasoning in matters related to lughah, rather
than nal]w.
19
4. Abii al-Khanab al-Akhfash al-Kabir (d. 1771793): Although
Zubaydf2 lists him under the nal]wiyun, and not the lughawiyun, the
evidence furnished by Slbawayhi's Kitiib strongly suggests that the opposite
is more likely true. There are fifty-eight mentions of him in the Kitab,
all, without exception, on matters concerning lughah, not nal]w.
21
Eight
of these are on lines of poetry,n the rest being on prose material Abii al-
KhaUab heard from Arabs whose Arabic was usually described by
Sibawayhi as being reliable or trustworthy (mawthuq bi-'Ambiyatihim).
5. Yiinus ibn ijabib (d. 1821798): There are 217 mentions of him in
the KitiibP In many instances he is quoted as a transmitter of certain usages:
two concerning Qur'anic verses,2
4
twenty concerning lines of poetry,2
5
eighteen concerning usages reported by Abii 'Arnr, or views held by him,
26
and many other cases concerning proseP Apart from al-Khalil (see below),
Yiinus is the earliest grammarian in whose work a definite system can be
discerned, sufficiently supported by textual evidence. Elaboration on this
system is beyond the scope of this paper, but it should suffice us to point
out briefly the main features of his methods of grammatical analysis:
a. He made extensive use of taqdir as an analytical tool. This
involved the suppletive insertion of parts of the sentence, mainly the
operants which he assumed to be elided.
28
b. He often formulated grammatical "rules" of universal validity
29
-
an extremely important step in the history of grammatical analysis which
so far had been mainly concerned with particulars, rather than "rules"
which embraced these particulars.
c. He often relied on anomalous examples in drawing conclusions
or formulating "rule."
30
His approach was thus highly reliant on samii',
with an obvious unwillingness to dismiss usages only scarcely used or
documented.
6. al-KhaHl ibn Al).rnad (d. 1751791): Unlike those of the five gram-
marians above, the role of al-KhaHl in the Kitiib is integral to the whole
work. There are 608 mentions of him in the Kitiib, many of which cover
whole chapters.
31
Indeed, al-Razl asserts that Sibawayhi's Kitiib contains
data ('uliim) gathered from al-KhalU.
32
It would therefore be completely
unrealistic to claim that it is possible to examine the linguistic analysis
of either al-Khalll or Sibawayhi in isolation. Any conclusion here referring
to Slbawayhi's methods refers, by definition, to him as well as to his master.
Apart from individual grammarians, Slbawayhi refers seventeen times to
a group which he calls na]Jwiyiin .
33
The sense of the designation is not very
clear,3
4
but it should be noted that six out of these seventeen mentions are in
relation to hypothetical examples they constructed, as opposed to what Arabs
actually said.
The grammatical activity surveyed above, apart from furnishing the
background of Slbawayhi's book, and indeed, of the grammar book for centuries
to come, reveals that despite the preoccupation of Slbawayhi's predecessors with
some basic grammatical phenomena, no grammar book seems to have preceded
the Kitiib. It is unimaginable that Sibawayhi, who frequently quotes his
predecessors and gives them due credit, should have intentiopally ignored
reference to a grammar book before his. As for the reports that 'Isii ibn 'Umar
wrote two grammar books, Jiimi' and Ikmal,
35
we have no single reference to
or quotation from either book in Slbawayhi's Kitiib, or indeed in any later
grammatical work, and thus very much doubt the existence of either title.
We are left with no more than a single grammar book which might be
claimed to have been written before the Kitiib or in the same period; namely,
Muqaddimahft al-na]Jw, by Khalaf al-Ai).mar (d. 1801796). There is, however,
compelling evidence that this book could not have been written in the second
century, let alone that Khalaf al-Ai).mar is its author:
1. The book is not attributed to Khalaf in the sources, which do not
even accept him as a proper na/:zwi, since his contribution was mainly in
poetry and, to a lesser extent, lexicography.
36
Asma'l, himself not accepted
as a na]Jwi was nevertheless said to have been a better na]Jwi than Khalaf.
37
2. The purpose of the book, as explained by the author, is to enable
its reader to "improve his language in any book he might write, in poetry
he might recite, or in an oration or treatise he might compose."
38
This
is not in tune with the trend in the second part of the second century. In
spite of the fact that the beginning of Arabic grammatical activity was related
to a didactic purpose, its development thereafter was largely on different
lines, and the didactic element does not distinctly re-emerge until late in
the third century.
128 Baalbaki
3. The author speaks of grammatical principles (U$Ul), particles
(adawiit), and operants ('awiimil),3
9
and arranges many parts of his book
according to the government of these operants, listing those governing the
nominative, accusative, genitive, and so on, under separate headings. This
arrangement, and more particularly the U$Ul, betrays the fact that the author
was writing later than the second century, for this term was not yet used
in the sense of grammatical principles or fundamentals of grammar, nor
was such an arrangement of headings-characteristic of the fourth century
onward-likely to have been used.
4. The author mentions the Basrans and the Kufans in two places,
both concerning terminology, saying that the Kufans use the term istitii'
for the Basran qa( or ijrii'
40
(instigation), and ijiib for tal:zqiq
41
(void,
exception, lacking the general term). But how could such a reference be
made at a time when the two "schools" could not yet have been formed?!
The formative elements of Sibawayhi's Kitiib can thus be reduced to the
general grammatical activity preceding him, and especially that of the
grammarians he quotes. Having discarded the Muqaddimah attributed to Khalaf
as a work of the third or even fourth century, we can confidently conclude that
Sibawayhi's Kitiib is the first book of Arabic grammar. It is interesting to note
that this first attempt, which laid the solid foundations of terms and methods
alike, has never been surpassed by later authors, nor has its author's approach
to linguistic analysis been seriously challenged, with the single exception of
Ibn Ma<;la"s refutation of the grammarians in his al-Radd 'ala al-nu}J,iit.
Having studied the stage leading to the appearance of the first grammatical
treatise, the developments that took place in the nature and methods of grammar
books can best be traced by comparing Sibawayhi's work, on the one hand,
with the work of the later grammarians, on the other. We have already suggested
that post-Sibawayhi grammarians may be identified as a single group to stress
the fact that, from the third century onward, there was an irreversible trend
away from some of the essential components of Sibawayhi's method, resulting
in a major change in the concept of what constitutes a grammar book, and
for what purpose it is written. Although a detailed study is warranted to trace
this development in its various aspects and appreciate the range of differences
among grammarians within the general trend, we shall limit this part of the
paper to the main features as portrayed in a comparison between Sibawayhi's
Kitiib and the first major grammar book to be written after it, namely, al-
Muqtaqab, by Mubarrad (d. 285/898).
It should be stressed here that Sibawayhi set the main features which
characterize the grammar book in general. The difference that one detects
between him and the later authors is in aspects of the methods of grammatical
analysis; most other features were largely preserved, and the broader ones
among them-which should not be lost in the mass of details one encounters
in the process of comparison-are the following:
1. The separation between lughah and nal]w: The realm of na}Jw, as
presented by Sfbawayhi, remained distinct from that of lughah, which has
an altogether different history of development.
2. The inclusion of Although there was an early realization that
the themes of form a distinct entity and may be the exclusive subject
of a whole treatise-as they were indeed as early as Mazinrs (d. 247/861)
of the later authors followed Sfbawayhi's example in treating
the themes of in one treatise, side by side with the linguistic subjects
which deal with the jwnlah rather than the kalimah. Mubarrad's (d.
285/898) Muqta4ab, Ibn al-Sarraj's (d. 316/928) Mujaz and and
Zubaydi's (d. 379/989) Wll4ih are but a few examples of the continuity
of Sfbawayhi's method.
42
The phonetic part of which Sfbawayhi
considers late in his second volume, also continued to be included in most
later books.
3. The shawiihid: Not only did the bulk of Sfbawayhi's shawiihid form
the main body of material for the later authors, but they had few additions
to make, as they absolutely refused to extend the period of accepted
shawiihid beyond the second century. It is interesting to note that it was
only on the linguistic merit of l)adith that there was a departure from this
approach, and then a minor and short-lived one, propagated by proponents
of one line of thought -harshly criticized by proponents of another-quite
late in the history of grammar.
43
4. The arrangement of material: Despite minor variations, the
arrangement Sfbawayhi adopts in the Kitiib is generally observed by the
later grammarians.
5. The tools of grammatical analysis: Whatever the later grammarians
might have introduced to the study of grammar or however they might have
drifted away from the delicate balance which Sfbawayhi established in his
analysis-as between samii' and qiyiis, for example-there remains the fact
that the "tools" of grammatical analysis used by Sfbawayhi-in our view,
largely under the influence of al-Khalil-were completely adopted by the
later grammarians. Concepts such as taqdir, }Jadhf, 'illah, 'iimil, ma'mul,
and so forth, are featured in the later sources with practically the same
range of application as in the Kitiib. Furthermore, Sfbawayhi's host of
terms-again, largely from al-Khalil
44
-carried through to the later
grammarians with only a few additions.
45
It is remarkable that even the
Kufan terms, despite some of their idiosyncrasies, are largely similar to
the terms used and elaborated on by Sfbawayhi.
The major areas of difference between Sfbawayhi and the later
grammarians-represented here by Mubarrad-that reveal the changes that
occurred in grammatical writing are the following:
130 Baalbaki
1. On qiyils and samil': Both authors use these terms in a largely similar
sense, but Mubarrad gives more prominence to the first at the expense of the
second. For him, qiyiis is not only a method of grammatical analysis, but also
a purely intellectual process which could be the arbiter in grammatical questions.
His use of terms like minhaj al-qiyils
46
and l}aqiqat al-qiyils4
1
-which do not
occur in the Kitilb-points to a more closely defined view of qiyils, whereby
it is not only used as a grammatical tool, but also referred to as one.
More importantly, Mubarrad seems to have changed the delicate balance
Sibawayhi established between qiyils and samil'. In his system, Sibawayhi puts
limitations on qi)iis, and respects samil', so that, apart from four examples,
48
he does not dismiss attested forms as wrong. Mubarrad, on the other hand,
frequently considered attested forms as unacceptable or wrong and resorts to
dismissing the riwilyah to prove his point.
49
The matter takes more serious
dimensions when Mubarrad's preference of qiyils over samil' prompts him to
apply the former, resulting in forms that are contrary to those attested to by
the Arabs through the latter. In his refutation of Mubarrad, Ibn WaWid points
out that he and the grammarians are not allowed to apply a qiyils which would,
even if it were sound, result in something that does not exist in their language,
and endorses Sibawayhi's view that the application of qiyils for generating forms
is only acceptable if these forms confOrm to the speech of the Arabs.
50
Unfortunately, Ibn Wallad's support of Sibawayhi is outweighed by the growing
acceptance by the later grammarians of the approach which gives qiyas
preeminence over samil' -an approach which brought about a major change
in the nature of a grammar book, the Kitab, leading to a futile exercise in the
application of criteria externally imposed by the grammarian on linguistic data.
2. On 'amal (regimen) and ta'lil (causation): The idea that any grammatical
phenomenon in an utterance must have a cause to explain it, and that this cause
can often be represented by the relation of the element that governs to the element
governed by it, has dominated the thinking of almost all Arabic grammarians,
mainly through the influence of al-Khalil and Sibawayhi. Furthermore, most
of the reasons Sibawayhi cites for particular phenomena are adopted by the
later grammarians, including Mubarrad.
51
However, a study of Mubarrad's
employment of the two concepts of regimen and causation reveals basic
differences between his approach and that of Sibawayhi, especially as evidenced
by the terminology expressing the concept of "operant." In the Kitilb, there
are fifty occurrences of the terms 'llmil, 'llmilah, and 'awilmil. However, the
majority do not express the concept of "operant." 5
2
In an expression like wa-
kana al-'llmilfihimil qablahu min al-kalilm (the operant in it was the preceding
sentence),
53
the word 'llmil cannot be said to stand for the concept of "operant,"
as it lacks the degree of abstraction needed for such a concept. In a few other
instances,
54
however, the concept is more clearly expressed. Mubarrad, on the
other hand, not only expresses this concept with precision,
55
but also speaks
of the different sorts of 'awiunil, and uses expressions like 'awiimil al-afii/,
56
'awiimil al-asmii' ,
51
al-'iimi/,
58
and al-'atf 'ala 'iimilayni.
59
Another
expression Mubarrad uses is biib al-'awiimi/,
60
which shows that the concept
of "operant" has become a "class" in itself. Indeed, he applies language drawn
from logic in his discussion of 'awiunil, as in the following passage: fa-idhii
ja'alta lahii 'awiimil ta'malftha liizimaka an taj'alli-'awiimilihii 'awiimil wa-
kadhiilika li-'awiimil'awiimilihii ilii mii Iii nihiiyah (if you assign to it operants
to act on it, you would need to assign operants to its operants, likewise to the
operants of its operants, indefinitely).
61
This approach to 'awiimil continued
to be used by the later grammarians and culminated in works devoted totally
to 'awiimil, complete with complex internal division
62
-another noteworthy
development in the grammar book.
As for ta'lil, Mubarrad, like Sibawayhi, assigns causes to explain
grammatical phenomena, but his use of this tool is far more sophisticated than
Sibawayhi's. First, he uses the term 'illah to refer to several phenomena, such
as labs,
63
l)adhf,
64
ikhtilaf,
65
and jawiiz.
66
Moreover, he uses the term 'ilal to
refer, collectively, to the issues or particulars of a certain biib.
61
This shows
how the uninterrupted application of 'illah resulted in a shift of meaning,
whereby a grammatical biib can be said to be made up of a number of 'ilal.
The major features of the difference between Sibawayhi 's use of ta'lil and
that of the later grammarians, represented here by Mubarrad, can be further
demonstrated through the following observations:
a. Many of the phenomena for which Mubarrad assigns an 'illah are
not given causes by Sibawayhi. Examples include the 'illah for the suffix
of the third-person masculine plural being siikin (as in 4arabu), while that
of the third-person feminine plural is not (as in 4arabna),
68
for many
peculiarities of numerals and the tamyiz following them,
69
and for the
vocative which is mufrad and ending in 4ammah.1
b. Many of the phenomena to which Sibawayhi assigns one 'illah are
explained by Mubarrad by two or more 'ila/.
11
Expressions like wa-
sanadhkuru dhiilika al-' illah fthi
12
show Mubarrad's tendency
to exhaust all the possible reasons for a particular phenomenon.
c. Many of the causes Mubarrad mentions are more complex and
sophisticated than those given by Sibawayhi. For instance, whereas
Sibawayhi mentions takhftf as the cause for the kasrah after the kiif in
al}liimikim, used by Bakr ibn Wa'il (akhaffmin an yu4amm),
13
Mubarrad
dismisses the usage as unacceptable to ahl al-nazar?
4
And whereas
Sibawayhi asserts that the elision of the nun of the dual and plural when
the geminate energetic ni:tn is suffixed to a verb in the dual or plural is
to avoid disambiguity between the singular and the dual or plural,7
5
Mubarrad resorts to qiyas ,1
6
the complexity of which becomes the target
of Ibn Walliid's criticism.
77
132 Baalbaki
Just as the approach to 'awiimil (in 1 above) gave rise to a new genre
of grammatical books, namely, books on 'awiimil, the approach to causation
is the main reason for another genre of grammatical books, this time works
on asriir (i.e., 'ilal), as exemplified in Ibn al-Anbari's Asriiral-'Arabiyah and
al-lghriib ft jadal al-i'riib, where causation is pursued as a mental exercise
in logic more than as a tool of grammatical interpretation.
3. Regarding subdivisions, Mubarrad and the later grammarians, in
general, tend to divide and subdivide grammatical phenomena to treat them
more precisely, but often, too, to demonstrate their ability to expand on the
subject at hand and present all its particulars under one heading. For example,
in dealing with the types of definite nouns, Mubarrad divides them according
to the degree of their ''defmiteness,' '
78
whereas Sibawayhi makes no such
distinction.
79
Similarly, Mubarrad lists four types of badal,
80
whereas
Sibawayhi mentions them in different places,
81
without any attempt to show
that they are different types of one concept.
4. As for "logical" considerations, several of these have already been
mentioned, and this subject deserves detailed study. One can point out here,
however, just a few manifestations of Mubarrad's "logical" approach to
grammar as an example of a drastic change in the nature of the grammar book.
These include "fanqala"
82
(hypothetical questions and answers), "i}Jiilah"
83
(reductio ad absurdum), and "tasalsu/"
84
(successivity). Furthermore, some
of the terms and expressions specific to logic and philosophy clearly feature
in passages like the one in which he arranges the degrees of definiteness,
85
where he says: "fa-al-shay' a'amm mii takallamta bihi, wa-al-jism a k h a ~ ~
minhu, wa-al-}Jayawiin a k h a ~ ~ min al-jism . .. bi-annaka taqul kull rajul insiin
wa-la taqul kull insiin rajul" (the thing is the most general connotation
of a term, and the body is more specific, and animal is more specific than
body . .. so you say every male is a human being but not every human being
is a male).
Sibawayhi's originality was not to be matched by any of the later gram-
marians. It was only when the new approach of the baliighiyun emerged-
mainly out of the preoccupation of the na}Jwiyun with imposing their own norms
on attested usage, and their inability to provide a theory of meaning compatible
with their theory on qiyiis, 'amal, and so on-that originality made another
appearance. This came with Jurjani's theory, mainly in his Dalii'il al-i'jiiz,
where he asserts that na}Jw should be the study of meaning, but that the
na}Jwiyun failed to approach their subject from that angle.
86
But this attempt
was again short-lived, and baliighah itself was later plagued with rigidity
and the lack of continued revision of theory, Once again, later authors seem
to have corrupted the basically sound systems of their forerunners, and
thwarted the efforts they made in their first and major books in each of the
two subjects.
NOfES
1. Ibn 'Aqi1's Shar/J 'ala alfiyat Ibn Malik, 4 vols., ed. M.M. 'Abd
al-I:Iamid (Cairo, 1967), 2:185-86.
2. Abu al-Tayyib al-Lughawf, Mariitib al-na/Jwiyin, ed. M.A. Ibrahim
(Cairo, 1974), p. 106.
3. Cp. the saying: aq'afmin IJujjat na/Jwi, in Ibn Khallikan's Wafayiit al-
a'yiin wa-anbii' abnii' al-zamiin, 8 vols., ed. I. 'Abbas (Beirut, 1968-72), 1:119.
Examples of some of their poor interpretations are discussed by Ibn Ma<;la'
al-Qurtubi in his al-Radd 'alil al-nu/Jiit, ed. Sh. l)ayf (Cairo, 1947). See also
F. Tarazi, FT al-lughah wa-al-na/Jw (Beirut, 1969), pp. 132-33.
4. al-Suyuti, Sabab waq' 'ilm al-'arabiyah, in al-Tu/Jfah al-bahiyah wa-
al-turfah al-shahiyah (Constantinople, 1885), p. 49ff. For the different accounts
on the "first Arab grammarian," see R. Talmon, "Who Was the First Arab
Grammarian? A New Approach to an Old Problem," Zeitschrift for arabische
Linguistik 15 (1985), pp. 128-46.
5. Ibn al-Anbari, Nuzhat al-alibbii' fi tabaqiit al-udabii', ed. I. Samarra'i
(Baghdad, 1970), p. 20. Ibn al-Nadim reports that he once saw four Chinese
papers containing material from Abu al-Aswad's grammatical treatise in the
handwriting of Yal:lya ibn Ya'rnar; see al-Fihrist, ed. R. Tajaddud (Tehran, 1971),
p. 46. It is very doubtful, however, whether Chinese paper was known to the
Arabs by the time of Yal)ya (d. 1291746), and if Ibn al-Nadim indeed saw such
a manuscript, it was, most probably, forged.
6. In addition to al-Suyuti and Ibn al-Anbarf, see Ibn Sallam, Tabaqiit al-
shu'arii', ed J. Hell (Leiden, 1916), p. 5; and Zubaydi, Tabaqiit al-na/Jwiyin
wa-al-lughawiyin, ed. M.A. Ibrahim (Cairo, 1973), pp. 11-12.
7. This is continuously stressed by the sources, and errors like "mii ashaddu
al-IJarri," for "mil ashadda al-/Jarra," and "inna Alliiha ban..,un min al-
mushrikina wa-rasulihi" for "rasUlahu" are invariably cited.
8. Slbawayhi, Kitiib, 2 vols. (Bulaq, 1316-17/1898-99, repr. Baghdad, 1965),
1:2.
9. Tabaqiit al-shu'arii', p. 5; cp. Tabaqiit, p. 21. Equally
untrustworthy is the reference to ibn 'Asim as having opened qiyiis wide
(jataqa al-qiyiis). This is incompatible with grammatical activity, which
is usually mentioned along with that of Abu al-Aswad, and said to be similar
134 Baalbaki
to it. See al-Qifli:, Inbah al-ruwah 'ala anbah al-IUl}Jah, 4 vols., ed. M.A.
Ibrahim (Cairo, 1950-73), 3:343.
10. For this and other statistics about grammarians mentioned in the Kitab,
see W. Reuschel's al-ljalil ibn A}Jmad, der Lehrer Sibawaihs, als Grammatiker
(Berlin, 1959), pp. 67-75; and the additions and corrections made by G.
Troupeau in "A propos des grammairiens cites par SThawayhi dans le Kitab,"
Arabica 8 (1961), pp. 309-12. See also G. Troupeau's Lexique-Index du "Kitab"
de Sibawayhi (Paris, 1976), pp. 227-31; and 'A.M. Ham's indexes to his edition
of the Kitab (Cairo, 1977), pp. 181-961.
11. As suggested, for example, by A.M. Ansari: in "al-Tayyar al-qiyasi: fi
al-madrasah Bulletin of the Faculty of Arts, Cairo University 24
(1962), p. 20.
12. Sh. l)ayf speaks of him as "ustiidh al-madrasah see al-
Madaris al-na}Jwiyah (Cairo, 1968), p. 22; while M.S. Belguedj says: "on avait
en effet quelques raisons de le presenter parfois comme le premier grammarien
'basrite' "; see "La demarche des premiers gramrnairiens arabes dans le
domaine de la syntaxe," Arabica 20 (1973), pp. 168-85.
13. This is contrary to l)ayfs interpretation of 'Isa's views, in al-Madaris
al-na}Jwiyah, p. 25.
14. See, for example, Kitab, 1:272, where he allows the accusative in hiidha
awwalu forisin muqbilan by comparing it with the accusative in hiidhii rajulun
mun(aliqan, that is, treating it as a circumstantial accusative, not as an adjective.
See also Kitiib, 1:313, where he reads ya ma(aran, likening it to ya rajulan,
and explains the accusative through the nunation (i.e., the sign of indefiniteness)
common to both.
15. Tabaqat al-na}Jwiyin, pp. 35, 159.
16. Kitiib, 1: 238, 316; 2: 167, 289, 297, 358, 417. Note that Abu 'Amr was
one of the seven authorized readers.
17. Ibid.' 1: 253, 437, 446.
18. Ibid.' 1: 293, 320, 396; 2: 81, 167.
19. Ibid.' 1: 208, 265; 2: 15, 28, 63, 149, 208, 237.
20. Tabaqat al-na}Jwiyin, p. 40.
21. In Zajjiijl's Majiilis al-'ulamii', ed. 'A.M. Hiin1n (Kuwait, 2nd ed.,
1983), p. 124, Abii al-Khattiib has only one majlis (no. 75), again on lughah.
22. Kitiib, 1: 40, 103, 153, 271, 369, 462; 2: 12, 17. For the rest of the
quotations, see Troupeau's Lexique-Index, pp. 227-28.
23. In addition to Reuschel and Troupeau, see A.M. Ansari, Yunus al-
Ba!)ri: !Jayiituhu wa-iithiiruhu wa-madhiihibuhu (Cairo, 1973), pp. 320-21.
24. Kitiib, 1: 173, 236.
25. Ibid., 1: 25, 77, 131, 140, 161, 182, 201, 207, 241, 253, 289, 333, 359,
422, 423,468, 486; 2: 54, 160, 174.
26. Ibid., 1: 1, 194, 201, 208, 265, 273, 293, 360, 397, 453; 2: 23, 48, 53,
63, 74, 81 1.12, 81 1.15, 125, 183.
27. See, for example, Kitiib, 1: 115, 174, 203, 207, 213, 231, 248, 249,
258,275, 284, 311, 316, 317, 322, 345, 361, 363, 372, 379, 382, 402, 404, 470;
2: 26, 31, 35, 54, 70, 73, 88, 110, 113, 122, 125, 127, 142, 148, 153, 190, 191,
192, 201, 203, 226, 249, 273, 278, 288, 388.
28. Some of the clearest examples of this can be found in Kitiib, 1: 147,
173, 252, 256, 328, 398, 412.
29. Examples of this are his assertion that any noun made of two conjoined
nouns is a diptote (2:50), and that the diminutive (ta/Jqir) invariably reveals
the origin of the word's radicals (2:85). See also 2:283, concerning ishmiim.
30. One example is his claim, based on the form manun, the plural of the
interrogative particle man, and on the sentence 4araba mannun mannan which
he heard from an Arab, that manah can be considered to be declinable as is
ayyah, and it is therefore permissible to use the forms manatun, manatan, and
manatin. See Kitiib, 1:402; cf. Suyiiti, Ham' al-hawiimi' shar!Jjam' al-jawiimi'
(Cairo, 1909), 2:153. Similarly, he allows iyyiika Zaydan on the basis of a poetic
shiihid (1:140; cf. Zubaydl's Tabaqiit, p. 53).
31. Reuschel, al-Khalil, p. 18.
32. al-Suyiiti, al-lqtirii/Jft 'ilm u!ifll al-na/Jw, ed. A.M. Qasim (Cairo, 1976),
pp. 205-6.
136 Baalbaki
33. Kitiib, 1: 167, 194, 216, 223, 227, 242, 257, 383, 393, 395, 415, 433,
437; 2: 18, 107, 157, 315. Cf. Troupeau, Lexique, NHW, where three other
mentions are cited, but only in the context of the seventeen occasions.
34. For an examination of this term, see M.G. Carter, "Les origines de
la grammaire arabe," Revue des Etudes Islamiques 40 (1972), pp. 69-97.
35. Fayriizabadl, al-Bulghah fi tiirfkh a'immat al-lughah, ed. M. M i ~ r l
(Damascus, 1972), pp. 180-81; and al-Suyiitl Bughyat al-wu'iit fi tabaqiit al-
lughawiyfn wa-al-nu]Jiit, ed. M.A. lbrahlm (Cairo, 1964-65), pp. 237-38.
36. Note that Zubaydllists him under the lughawiyiDI in his Tabaqiit, p. 161.
37. Ibid., p. 163; cf. Nuzhat al-alibbii', pp. 90-91.
38. Khalaf al-AI:lmar, Muqaddimahfi al-na]Jw, ed. 'I. Taniikhl(Damascus,
1961), p.34.
39. Ibid., p.34.
40. Ibid., p. 53.
41. Ibid., p. 80.
42. R. Baalbaki, "The relation between nal:lw and balaga: a comparative
study of the methods of SThawayhi and Gurgani," Zeitschrift for arabische
Linguistik 11 (1983), p. 7.
43. For grammarians who included l:ladlth as a main source of linguistic
data, and those who argued the case for its inclusion, see Baghdadi's Khiziinat
al-adab wa-lubb lubiib lisiin al-'arab (Bulaq, 1299) 1:3ff.; and Kh. }:Iad1th1,
Mawqif al-nu]Jiit min al-i]Jtijiij bi-al-]Jadith al-sharlf (Baghdad, 1981) ch. 3:
191-365.
44. See the section on mu.uala]Jiit in G.N. 'Ababina's Makiinat al-Khalfl
ibn A]Jmad fi al-na]Jw al-'arabi (Amman, 1984), pp. 157-76.
45. For example, the addition of ism al-iila (in Kitiib, 2:249, "hiidhii biib
mil 'ala ta bihi"), and ism al-marrah (in Kitiib, 2:246, "hiidhii biib nazii'ir
qarabtuhu l/,arbatan wa-mmaytuhu ramyatan"). For other examples, see .Oayfs
al-Madiiris al-na]Jwiyah, pp. 61-62.
46. Mul}ammad ibn Yazid al-Mubarrad, Kitilb al-Muqta4ab, 4 vols., ed.
M.A. 'UI;laymah (Cairo, 1965-66), 3:147; hereafter Muqta4ab.
47. Ibid.' 1:177.
48. These are the passages in which Sibawayhi describes observed linguistic
data as unacceptable; see Kitilb, 1: 290; 2: 127, 278, 367.
49. See, for example, Muqta4ab, 2: 22, 116-17, 132-33 (cf. Kitab, 1:408);
3:285; and Kamil, ed. W. Wright (Leipzig, 1864-92), p. 22. For evidence of
Mubarrad's rejection of riwilyah from other sources, see Ibn al-Sarriij's Kitab
al-u$uljf al-na}Jw, 3 vols., ed. 'A Fatall (Baghdad, 1973), 1:123; and Ibn Jinnfs
al-Kha$il'i$, 3 vols., ed. M.A. Najjar (Cairo, 1952-56), 1:75. As for usages
which Mubarrad dismisses but that Sibawayhi accepts, or only describes as
weak but not to be dismissed, cf. five examples from Kitab, 1: 235, 435; 2:
121, 144, 294, with their corresponding passages in Muqta4ab, 2: 146, 72-73,
249, 336; 1: 269-70.
50. Inti$ilr Sibawayhi 'ala al-Muba"ad, in Muqta4ab, 3:313, margin.
51. Examples of this are the agreement that the implicit verb is the operant
which brings about the accusative in certain vocative constructions (Kitilb, 1:303;
Muqta4ab, 4:202), and that ibtida' is the operant causing the nominative in
the mubtada' (Kitab, 1:278; Muqta4ab, 2:49). But for disagreement, see their
discussions of the mustathna (Kitab, 1:369; Muqta4ab, 4:390), and of the
apodosis (Kitab, 1:449; Muqta4ab, 2:82).
52. As in Kitilb, 1: 27, 37, 64, 74, 79, 92, 104, 108, 121, 134, 179, 202,
228, 243, 248, 277, 345, 360, 362, 440, 456, 457, 465.
53. Ibid., 1:369.
54. For example, 1: 3, 48, 231, 245, 347; 2: 61. See also F. Praetorius,
"Die gramrnatische Rektion bei den Arabern," Zeitschrift der deutschen
morgenliindischen Gesellschaft 63 (1909), p. 499, where specialized terms
connected with 'awilmil, not found in the Kitilb, are pointed out.
55. As in Muqta4ab, 2:5; 4:302, for example.
56. Ibid., 2:10, 75.
57. Ibid.' 2:6, 7, 38, 345.
138 Baalbaki
58. Ibid., 4: 156, 300.
59. Kiimil, pp. 163, 448.
60. Muqtaqab, 4:317.
61. Ibid., 4:80.
62. As in Jurjiinfs al-'Awiimil al-mi' ah al-1Ul/Jwiyah ft u ~ i t l ilm
al-'arabiyah, ed. al-Badriiwl Zahriin (Cairo, 2nd ed., 1988).
64. Ibid., 2:269; 3:166.
65. Ibid., 2:153.
66. Ibid., 3: 101, 217.
67. Cf. the expression, "biib anna wa-inna bi-janu""' 'ilalihi" (Kiimil, p.
49), with "wa-hiidhii yushrah 'alii hiyiilihi bi-jami' ilalihi" (Muqtaqab,
2:31-32).
68. Ibid., 1:271.
69. Ibid., 2:163-69, esp. p. 166 1.12, and p. 167 1.1.
70. Ibid., 4:204.
71. Cf., for example, Kitiib, 2:153, with Muqtal/ab, 3:19, for the fat/Jah
in the imperfect followed by the energetic nun, and Kitiib, 2:36-38, with
Muqtaqab, 3:374 (cf. Kilmil, p.268, and Ibn al-Sarriij's U ~ i t l , 1:424; 2:90),
for the final kasrah of feminine forms of the pattern fa'iill.
72. Ibid., 2:136.
73. Kitiib, 2:294.
75. Kitiib, 2:154.
76. Muqtaqab, 3:22.
77. Inti$iir, in Muqta4ab, 3:21, margin.
78. Muqta4ab, 4:281.
79. Kitiib, 2:260ff.
80. Muqta4ab, 4:297; cf. Kiimil, pp. 438-39.
81. Kitiib, 1: 75ff., 218ff., 224ff., 393ff.
82. For example, Muqta4ab, 2:3-4,; 4:173-76.
83. Ibid, 1:36; 4:8. See also his use of i}Jiilah as reported in majlis 55 of
Zajjajl's Majiilis, p. 96; and in Ibn Jinnl's Khasii'is, 1:89.
84. Muqtal}ab, 3:374; 4:80.
85. Ibid., 4:280. Cf. Abu al-Baqa', al-Kulliyiit (Cairo, n.d.), p. 358.
86. For the relation between na}Jw and baliighah, the emergence of the
latter as a reaction to the former, and a detailed comparison between the two
key figures of the two fields, namely Sibawayhi and Jurjani, see my article
mentioned in note 42 above.
8
Women's Roles in the Art of
Arabic Calligraphy
Salah al-Din al-Munajjid
Those scholars who study the role of women in Islam will notice that throughout
the different periods of history, women were actively engaged in every field
of endeavor, be it politics, government, or learning. Women were not confined,
as some have assumed, to mothering and household occupations.
Women achieved a distinguished position in society by becoming skilled
in Arabic composition, and by excelling in penmanship and calligraphy. Quite
often, women managed the affairs of palaces, acquired knowledge and became
important scholars, and copied books of all genres, including literature, poetry,
and Traditions (l:ladith). They copied books in a most beautiful way, and
competently checked the copies against the originals for correctness. They
copied Korans and excelled in the manner of presenting them. People
in government often relied on women to write the texts of political treaties
because of their superior writing abilities.
ISLAM ENCOURAGES LEARNING AND WRITING
At the advent of Islam, only seventeen men and three women of the clan of
Quraysh knew how to write. When the Prophet came, he called upon his
followers to become learned, to learn how to read and write. The Holy Koran
is explicit in this regard. God swore by the pen. He said, "Nun, by the pen
and what they write,"' and God commanded His Messenger to read. He said,
"Recite (or read, iqra') in the name of thy Lord who created, created man
from a blood-clot. Recite, and thy Lord is the Most Bountiful, who taught by
the pen, taught man what he did not know."
2
God also ordained the cultivation
of learning. He said, "Seek ye knowledge even in China." China, in this context,
refers to a remote point, extremely distant from Mecca and Medina (in the
absence of modern means of travel and communication), and very hard to reach.
He ordained teaching. He said, "He who is learned among you should teach
the others." God instructed the Messenger to seek knowledge, despite its being
a difficult undertaking.
141
142 al-Munajjid
One of the earliest verses of the Koran, revealed just after the emigration
of the Prophet to Medina, had to do with debt. God ordained the writing, or
recording (kitabah), of debts. He said, "0, ye who believe, when you contract
a debt one upon another for a stated term, write it down and let a scribe write
it between you in equity."
3
Henceforth, writing came into fiscal legislation for
the recording of contracts and for the protection of peoples' rights.
The Messenger ordained writing in another area, namely writing a will
before death. He encouraged every person to write a will before his death, and
to divide his personal property among his heirs or donate it to the poor.
Great interest was shown in studying script and writing, in particular writing
down the revelation of the Koran. The Messenger was illiterate, in that he did
not know how to read or write. God said, "Not before this didst thou recite
any Book, or inscribe it with thy right hand."
4
The Prophet appointed several
from among those Companions of his who knew how to write to be his writing
secretaries. These included Abu Bakr, 'Umar ibn al-Khanab, 'Uthman ibn
'Affan, 'All ibn Abl Ti.ilib, Zayd ibn Thabit, Ubbay ibn Ka'b, Mu'awlyah ibn
Abl Sufyan, and Zayd ibn Arqum. He assigned each one of them a specific
task. To Zayd ibn Thabit he assigned the writing down of the revelation, for
example. The Messenger, furthermore, set up a special desk (!fuffah) in the
mosque for the purpose of teaching, and he appointed a special staff of teachers
to teach writing. Among the teachers were 'AbdAllah ibn Sa'id ibn
and 'Ubadah ibn al-Samit. He also sent Mu'iidh ibn Jabal to Yemen and
Hadramaut as a teacher.
The Prophet's interest in teaching was not limited to the education of men;
he directed that women, too, should receive proper education. He asked a
woman called al-Shafa' bint 'Abd Allah al-'Adawlyah, who was conversant
in the art of writing, to teach his daughter that art.
The Companions of the Prophet later called on people to learn how to write.
'Ali ibn Abl Ti.ilib said, "Teach your children writing and marksmanship." He
also said, "Beautiful writing makes the truth clearer," and "Take up beautiful
writing, it is the key to livelihood." 'AbdAllah ibn al-'Abbas said, "Calligraphy
is the tongue of the hand."
One more thing should be pointed out, as it clearly indicates the Prophet's
concern for promoting learning. When the battle of Badr ended with the victory
over the clan of Quraysh, the number of prisoners was high. Most of them did
not have the necessary funds for a ransom. The Messenger consented that each
prisoner ransom himself by teaching ten Muslims who were versed in the tenets
of Islam to read.
The above considerations, together with enthusiasm for learning, directed
the Muslims toward the high road of knowledge and the pursuit of writing
capability. These same considerations led also to the diffusion of the Arabic
script and to the writing of works that numbered in the millions, including works
Women's Roles in the Art of Arabic Calligraphy 143
on religion as well as in the humanities. Muslim scholars who got involved
in authoring did so prolifically. The works of some individual scholars reached
four hundred in number. Mention can be made here of al-Kindi the philosopher,
ai-Jal.Ji:? the writer, al-Mada'ini the historian, Ibn 'Arabi the mystic, and al-
S u y i i ~ I the theologian.
THE ARABS' EXCELLENCE IN CALLIGRAPHY
In Mecca, the Arabs wrote in a script called the Meccan, an offshoot of the
Nabatean script. After the hijrah, the emigration of the Prophet to Medina in
622 C.E., a script called the Medinian evolved. It differed little from the
Meccan. The Kufi script appeared after the establishment of the city of Kufah
in 638 C. E. It marked the beginning of a new era in the history of scripts in
that this last and newest script manifested tendencies for improvement and
variation.
The Kufi script spread along with Islam in all the conquered countries.
Each country, however, stamped it with i t ~ own particular character, so we began
to see the Damascene, or Syrian; the Baghdadi; the Iraqi, or Mul)aqqaq; the
Egyptian; the Qayrawani; and the Andalusian scripts. Some scripts came to
be known after the name of a ruling dynasty, such as the Fatimid, Ayyubi, and
Mamluk Kufi scripts. The Kufi script, in all its variations, remained the script
of the mn.$iihif, Korans, until the tourth/tenth century. It was then that Ibn Muqlah
and Ibn al-Bawwab appeared, and the writing of the ma.$iihif in the Naskhi
(cursive) script began. The sixth/twelfth century witnesses the complete
disappearance of Kufi as the script of Korans; however, it remained used for
the decoration of mosques and inscriptions on tombstones. New and more
developed styles of script appeared with the passage of time, such as the new
Naskh, Ruqa', Thuliith, Diwani, and Ta'!Iq. Both the Persians and the Turks
later excelled in producing other beautiful styles of script.
Using this wealth of scripts, the Muslims produced millions of works and
millions of mJ.$iihif. None of the other ancient civilizations produced as great
a number of works as did the Islamic and Arab civilizations, and that includes
the Greek, the Syriac, and the Roman.
THE PLACE OF CALLIGRAPHY IN ISLAM
Calligraphy occupied a high position in Islam and played an important role
in society for the following reasons:
I. Islam encourdged reading and writing from the very beginning.
2. Calligraphy became an official and religious tool.
3. Arabic script was beautiful and amenable to development.
4. Calligraphers were accoladed and supported by Muslim states.
5. Muslim calligraphers were possessed of genius.
144 al-Munajjid
Calligraphy invaded all areas of culture and society. Korans, as well as
scientific, religious, and literary works, were penned in beautiful styles of
calligraphy. Mosques, tribunes (minbars), palaces, baths, rugs, pillows, seats,
swords, helmets, and even scientific instruments, such as astrolabes and globes,
were all embellished with calligraphy and calligraphic designs. What may come
as a surprise is that the calligraphers who produced masterpieces that drew
worldwide admiration were not all men. Women played a very significant role
in the growth of Islamic culture.
WOMEN'S OCCUPATIONS: CALLIGRAPHY
Reading and writing helped women acquire a variety of cultural qualifications
that enabled them to become scientists, writers, and poets. Furthermore, it
prepared them to assume responsible positions in the state and to work in the
courts (diwiins) of the caliphs helping in the facilitation of all kinds of
transactions. As far back as the third/ninth century, al-Jal:ti?: described these
active women by saying: "The kings and nobility had bondswomen who
undertook all kinds of daily responsibilities joining the workforce or staff of
the diwiins. There were women who attended to the affairs of people, such as
the maid of al-Khayzuran; and 'Utbah, the maid of Ritah, daughter
of Abii al-'Abbas al-Saffal:t; and Sukkar and Turkiyah, the maids ofUmm Ja'far.
Furthermore, women appeared in public stylishly dressed and nobody decried
that or reproached it."
5
Sitt Nasi"m, one of the favorites (]Jazjyah) at the end of the Abbasid period,
played an important role during the caliphate of li-Din Allah (d.
622/1225). The Caliph taught her calligraphy so she was able to write almost
beautifully as he did. When, in his old age, his eyesight weakened and senility
overtook him, and he became unable to attend to the affairs of the people, he
asked her to respond, as she saw fit, to all the written requests addressed to
him. She performed that task for a long time.
6
Some of the poets and learned men had educated women to assist them.
Abii al-'Atahiyah, the famous poet, had a bondswoman to whom he dictated
his poetry, and she copied it down very well. Mul:tammad ibn al- 'Abbas ibn
al-Furat (d. 384/994), the I:tadith compiler and ]Jafiz who authored one hundred
commentaries on the Koran and one hundred history books, had a bondswoman
who check what he copied from other books to make sure that there were no
discrepancies. This is not as simple as it seems; it requires a high degree of
education.
In the palaces of the caliphs in Spain, al-Nu<;l<;lar (d. 374/984), a favorite
of Caliph al-l:lakam ibn 'Abd the Umayyad (d. 362/972), distinguished
herself. She was not only a poet, but also knoweldgeable in mathematics, and
was involved in all aspects of learning and in calligraphy? Lubna (d. 394/1003),
the secretary of (d. 366/976), was a poetess who excelled in
grammar, rhetoric, and mathematics. She produced a variety of fine calligraphic
works.
8
And there was Muznah (d. 358/968), the secretary of the Andalusian
caliph N a ~ i r al-Oin. She was one of the most distinguished calligraphers.
9
Many women, in fact, distinguished themselves in calligraphy, acquiring
rank and importance as a result. Such was the case with Fatimah, the daughter
of al-J:Iasan al-Aqra'. She wrote in numsub style, follwing the manner of the
great calligrapher Ibn ai-Bawwab. Calligraphers all over the Islamic world
imitated her.
10
One day, she wrote a note to MuJ:!arnmad ibn M a n ~ i i r al-Kandar1,
the vizier ofTughril Beg and the first Saljuqi vizier. He was so impressed with
her writing style and her eloquence that he presented her with one thousand
dinars.
11
When the caliph al-Muqtadir (d. 932) sent the Byzantine emperor a
letter declaring a truce between Byzantium and Baghdad, he asked Fiitimah
to pen it in her beautiful handwriting.
12
WOMEN SCHOLARS AND CALLIGRAPHY
Women's concern for copying religious and scientific books as well as poetical
anthologies grew as time went by. Their undertakings combined scholarship
and beauty. Mention is to be made here ofFatimah (d. 966/1558), the daughter
of 'Abd al-Qadir, better known as Bi_nt Quraymazan. She was a scholar in her
own right, and a principal of the 'Adiliyah khiinqah (a school for Sufis) in
Aleppo. She copied, by her own hand, a great number of books.
13
Another woman scholar was Sayyidah (d. 647/1249), the daughter of 'Abd
al-Ghan1 a!- 'Abdar1yah of Granada, Spain, who knew the Koran by heart and
was well known for her philanthropic work and for ransoming prisoners. She
copied, by her own hand, the whole of al-GhazzaU's lhyii' 'ulum al-din (The
Revival of Religious Sciences).
14
al-Riga, the daughter of al-FatJ:!, was a well
known writer in Baghdad. She was a prolific writer and copier, and copied
the diwiin oflbn al-Hajjaj, a copy of which the historian al-SafuQ1 saw. Another
well known woman in Baghdad was Shuhdah bint al-Ubrl. Nicknamed "the
glory of womanhood," she was a muf!addithah, a compiler of the J:!adHh, who
knew by heart the Traditions of the Messenger of God. She was also called
musnidat al-'lriiq, the Iraqi authority. She penned beautiful calligraphy in the
fashion of Fatimah bint al-Aqra'. There was none like her at the time. When
she died in 574/1178, the Caliph himself presided over her funeral.l
5
WOMEN EXCEL IN THE COPYING OF KORANS
The core of our subject is women's role in the copying of Korans. Women
calligraphers practiced this art all over the Islamic world, from Spain to Syria,
Iraq, Persia, and India. They even competed with each other in the copying
of wonderful Korans.
Historians mention that in the eastern quarters of Cordova there were one
hundred and seventy women copying Korans in the Kufi script. They worked
146 al-Munajjid
day and night by candlelight which illuminated the streets along thn:_e parasangs
(jarsakhs).
16
One woman who copied Korans was the Cordovan 'A'ishah, the
daughter of AJ:tmad (d. 400/1009). She was a good poet and calligrapher, and
also a bibliophile who collected a great number of books. She was respected
and loved by kingsP
During the Sanhajl rule in Tunisia, Durrah al-Katibah, the writer, one of
the secretaries in the Sanhajl court, acquired great fame. One of her unparalleled
works is the l:fa<,linah (The Nursemaid) Koran. In the court of Banii Zlrl there
were several foreign bondsmaids, one of whom was from Byzantium. She was
captured by pirates during the reign of the Sannajl prince and taken
first to Mahdiyah and later to Qayrawan. bought her and changed
her name to Fatimah. She was very intelligent, so entrusted her with
the nursing of his son, Badis. This is why she came to be known as Fatimah
al-l:fa<,linah, that is, the nursemaid. When al-Mu'izz ibn Badis consolidated
his power, he raised her position, thus raising the prestige of and respect for
his father's nurse and teacher. endowed the mosque of 'Uqbah in
Qayrawan with valuable books, rare works, and gilded Korans, some of which
still exist in the old library. Some of the Korans are written with smelted gold
in the old Kufi scripts. One of the endowed Korans was copied by a certain
Durrah. On the last page is written, "In the Name of God the Merciful, the
Compassionate, Fatimah the Nursemaid, the nursemaid of Abii Manad Badis.
I endowed (}Jabastu) this Koran to the Mosque of the City of Qayrawan in the
month of Ramadan 410 A.H. (1019 C.E.)." And on the other side of the paper
is written, Koran was copied, diacritically marked, decorated, gilded,
and bound by 'All ibn AJ:tmad al-Warraq for the honorable Nursemaid. May
God protect her, at the hand of Durrah, the calligrapher, may God keep her."
Fatimah died in 420/1029, but her Koran remains with us.
18
WOMEN CALLIGRAPHERS IN THE OflDMAN PERIOD
During the Ottoman period, calligraphry gained a very high standing in society.
Several women flourished. Among them were 'Ibrat; Zahidah
Salma Khanum; Sharifah 'A'ishah Khanum; Silfinaz Khanum; Faridah Khanum,
the Qastumonian; Khadljah Kuzaydah Khanum <;::elebi; and Nukhah Khanum.
Many of the Ottoman sultans were themselves calligraphers, as were their
mothers. Durrah Khanum, the mother of Sultan Mal:tmiid Khan, copied a Koran
in the year 1172/1758. This Koran was held by the Mal:tmiidlyah Library in
Medina. It is said that it was carried away by the Ottoman Turks to Istanbul
when they left the Hijaz.
19
The mother of Sultan 'Abd al-Majld Khan, who
ascended to the throne in 1255/1839, penned a copy of Dalii'il al-khayriit, which
was also among the holdings of the Mal:tmiidlyah Library in Medina.
Among the most splendid works of the Turkish women calligraphers is
a Koran copied by al-sharifah and }Jii.fizah Zulaykhah Khatiml al-Sa'di, the
daughter of al-I:Iajj 'Abd al-Karlm Zadah Bisar-i Yarl, in 1276/1859. "al-
Sharifah" indicates that she was a descendant of the family of the Prophet,
and "/Jii.fizah" indicates that she was one of those who knew the Koran by heart.
The calligrapher who knew the Koran by heart, whether man or woman, was
thought to be more trustworthy.
The first two pages of this Koran are splendidly illuminated. Within "The
Opening" (al-Fiiti/Jah) and the beginning of "The Cow" (al-Baqarah), several
iiyiit (verses) are decorated with very colorful folia! and floral designs on a
gilded background. Though I have seen many gilded Korans, I don't believe
I have seen anything as beautiful as these two pages. The other pages of this
Koran have wide, gilded border surrounded by a fine blue line. The verses
are separated by gilded circular designs filled with variated ornamentations.
The titles of the surahs are placed within gilded panels, within which the number
of the surah is written in white. In the margins, the a/Jziib (60th part) and ajzii'
(30th part) are indicated by circular designs within which the word /Jizb or
juz' is inscribed. The designs have a head and a tail similar, in a way, to a
colored spike, and one of them is differently shaped. The script is in beautiful
Naskhi script, the binding is leather filigreed in gold. A Jeddah scholar owns
this Koran.
It is believed that there exists a spiritual and mystical bond between women
and the letters of the alphabet. One writer described a woman calligrapher by
saying: "Her ink was like the blackness of her hair, her paper was like the
tanned skin of her face, her pen was like one of her delicate fingers, and her
knife was like the penetrating sword of her sweet looks." The eyebrows of a
beautiful woman have been compared to the Arabic letter nun, her eye to an
'ayn, her temple to a wiiw, her mouth to a mim, and her braided hair to a shin.
For a woman to be considered really beautiful, one of the qualifications was
good penmanship. It was said that a lucky woman was one who combined the
beauty of body and face with that of character and penmanship.
NOTES
1. The Holy Koran, 68:1.
2. Ibid., 96:1-4.
3. Ibid., 2:282.
4. Ibid., 29:48.
5. 'Amr ibn Bal).r a l - J a l , l i ~ , Rasii'il, 2 vols., ed. A.M. Harlin (Cairo, 1964),
2:156.
148 al-Munajjid
6. KhaHI ibn Aybak al-Safadi:, al-Wilft bi-al wafayat, ed. Wadad al-Qa<;li:
(Wiesbaden, 1982), 16:239.
7. al-Suyiitl, Bughyat al-Wu'at, 2 vols., ed. M. Abu al-Fa<;lllbrahi:m (Cairo,
1965), 2:269.
8. Lac. cit.
9. 'Umar Ri<;la Kabbalah, A'lam al-nisa', 3rd. ed., 5 vols. (Beirut, 1977),
5:49.
10. Abd al-l:layy ibn AJ:nnad ibn a!-'Imad, Shadharat al-dhahab ft akhbar
man dhahab, 8 vols. in 4 (Beirut, 1966), 4:365.
11. Lac. cit.
12. Yaqiit a l - l : l a m a w ~ Mu'jam al-udabil', 7 vols., ed. D.S. Margoliouth,
E.J.W. Gibb Memorial (London, 1923-27), 6:113; 'Abd al-Ral:tmiin ibn al-Jawzi:,
al-Muntazam ft tilrikh al-umam, 10 vols. (Hyderabad, 1359/1940), 9:40.
13. Ibn al-'Imad, Shadharat, 8:347.
14. al-Safadl, at-Waft, 16:65.
15. Ibid., 14:128, ed. by S. Dedering.
16. Mul)ammad Kurd 'Ali, "Ghilbir al-Andalus wa-1Ja4iruhil," Majallat
al-Majma' al-'llmi bi-Dimashq 2 (1922), p. 265.
17. Kabbalah, A'lam al-nisa', 3:6.
18. I:Iasan I:Iusni 'Abd al-Wahhab, Waraqilt Tunisiyah, 3 vols. (Tunis,1964),
1:345; Shahirat al-Tftnisiyilt, 2nd ed. (Tunis, 1%6), pp. 80--82.
19. Mul:tammad Tahir al-Kurdi:, TiJrikh al-khat( al-'Arabi "tWJ-adabuh (Cairo,
1936)' p. 340.
9
Some Illustrations in Islamic Scientific
Manuscripts and Their Secrets
David A. King
An estimated 10,000 Islamic scientific manuscripts survive in libraries around
the world. Although many were copied after the creative period of Islamic
science, they bear witness to a scientific tradition which knew no rival from
the eighth to the fifteenth centuries. While many of these manuscripts are
illustrated, the illustrations have received scant attention from historians. For
example, even though some manuscripts of al-Sufi's Book on Constellations
have been studied by art historians, neither a critical study of the available
manuscripts nor a comparative study of the various traditions of illustration
has been conducted. Moreover, there are other treatises in which constellation
figures occur, and other astrological treatises in which there are illustrations
that should be of interest to art historians.
Some attention has been paid to the diagrams in works on engineering (see
figure 9.1), and scholars have labored over geometrical diagrams to understand
the accompanying mathematical procedures (see figure 9.2). Islamic maps have
also fared quite well at the hands of historians, and the state of our present
knowledge of Islamic cartography is reasonably advanced. Investigations of
diagrams of geometrical planetary models led, in the 1950s, to the discovery
of a tradition lasting several centuries of Islamic modifications to Ptolemaic
planetary theory (see figure 9.3).
My present purpose is to demonstrate the significance of various other
categories of illustrations which I have worked on recently and which open
up new chapters in the field of Islamic science.
SOME ILLUSTRATIONS IN TREATISES ON ASTRONOMICAL INSTRUMENTS
Before mentioning some illustrations in Islamic texts on astronomical instru-
ments, let us look at figure 9.4, from the Shahinshahname, which shows the
scene at the Ottoman Observatory in Istanbul. The observatory was built in
1577 and demolished in 1580, and we are lucky indeed to have this miniature.
149
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Fig. 9.1. Numerous mechanical devices are illustrated and described in this eleventh-
century Andalusian treasure, discovered less than twenty years ago. (MS Florence
Bibliotheca Medicea-Laurenziana Or. 152.)
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..
.
....r JAW1 o J J WIJ;.:. (
.. .JI...u\

Fig. 9.2. A geometrical diagram accompanying the solution of a problem in spherical
astronomy. (From a manuscript in the Universiteitsbibliotheek, Leiden.)
Fig. 9.3. An illustration of a non-Ptolemaic planetary model from a treatise of the
thirteenth-century Maragha school. (From a manuscript in the Dar al-Kutub, Cairo.)
Fig. 9.4. The astronomers of the Istanbul Observatory with some of their instruments.
This miniature is a veritable gold-mine of information which has yet to be fully exploited.
(MS Istanbul University Library Yildiz 1404.)
154 King
The director, Taqi al-Oin, is one of the t'M> men contemplating the astrolabe.
Some of the books behind him are now in the University Library in Leiden;
his mark of ownership is found on several manuscripts in that library. Thqi al-
Oin himself wrote a treatise on mechanical clocks, and one such clock is featured
here. Most of the instruments, notably the astrolabe and two quadrants, and
various observational instruments, are of Islamic provenance; one, the terrestrial
globe, is European. A terrestrial globe from the workshop of Mercator, with
a dedication to Sultan Murad III dated 1579, was auctioned at Christie's of
London in 1991; could this be the one illustrated here?
A project currently in progress in Frankfurt aims to catalogue all of the
historically significant, surviving Islamic astronomical instruments (as well as
European to ca. 1550). As many of the instruments as possible are being
examined at first hand, and the relevant manuscript sources are also being
exploited for information. Sometimes, manuscripts constitute the only available
source of infOrmation on certain classes of instruments of which no examples
have survived.
Figure 9.5 shows some of the illustrations of unusual astrolabe retia in a
treatise on the astrolabe by al-Bin1nL These variatons on the standard astrolabe
are of considerable historical interest, not least because we now know al-Bin1nfs
source for his information on them. His predecessor, al-Sijzi, actually mentions
the astronomers who devised them and the patrons to whom they dedicated
examples of them. Alas, all such instruments have disappeared without a trace,
and it is left to the modern historian to piece together the details. Dr. Richard
Lorch of Munich is currently preparing a critical analysis of all of the related
textual material. Sometimes we are more fortunate in having both text and
instrument, although in the following examples the instruments were known
to modern scholarship before the texts.
An astrolabe in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York bears the
signature of the Yemeni Rasulid Sultan al-Ashraf and is dated 690/1291 (see
figure 9.6). A few decades ago, it was pronounced a fake: no Yemeni sultan
could have made such an astrolabe. Perhaps, it was speculated, the astrolabe
was made for him in Cairo, because the Yemen is a backwater, and no serious
astronomy could have been practiced there. We now know of over one hundred
Yemeni astronomical manuscripts attesting to an active tradition of astronomy
in the Yemen from the tenth century to the twentieth. One of these, preserved
in the Egyptian National Library, is an illustrated treatise by al-Ashraf on the
construction of the astrolabe and sundial (see figure 9.7). Appended to the text,
which may well be in the Sultan's own hand, is a set of ijazahs by two of his
teachers approving six astrolabes which he made and mentioning various features
of each. One of these is clearly the New York instrument.
Another case is an astrolabe in the Benaki Museum in Athens which was
made by Ibn al-Sarriij in Aleppo in 729/1328 or 1329. It is the most sophisticated

,(.;" !.r-;'t.
:r:

r"/h'-1--/Ufif!/Jft'JIJ'!t:i-_,:J;.lfjtf/JM/!Itiuilrr./fJ 't''
Fig. 9.5. Non-standard astrolabes illustrated in the treatise on astronomical instruments by al-Marrakushi (Cairo, ca. 1280). The text is based
on al-Birtini (Central Asia, ca. 1025), who abridged the discussion of them by al-Sijzi (E. Iran, ca. 1000). (MS Cairo Dar al-Kutub K 3821.)
Fig. 9.6. The back of the astrolabe of the Yemeni Sultan al-Ashraf, dated 690/1291. This
is the only known Islamic astrolabe on which the back is devoted to astrological
information arxl also one of the few on which the sun, moon, and five planets are indicated
by their symbols. The very same peculiarities are featured in an illustration found in
al-Ashrafs treatise on astrolabe construction (see figure 8.7). (Metropolitan Museum
of Art, New York, inv. no. 91.1.535.)
Fig. 9.7. One of numerous illustrations in al-Ashrafs treatise on astrolabe construction.
If any proof were needed that the New York astrolabe was indeed due to al-Ashraf ... but
none is. The treatise also deals with sundial construction (no medieval sundials are known
from the Yemen) and contains the earliest known description of a magnetic compass
in any astronomical text.
158 King
astrolabe ever constructed, being universal in five different ways (see figure
9.8). (Most astrolabes have plates serving a series of latitudes; the universal
astrolabe with a single plate serving all latitudes was invented in Andalusia
in the eleventh century.) A manuscript in Princeton contains an account by the
fifteenth-century Egyptian astronomer 'Abd al- 'Aziz al-Wafa'I of the use of Ibn
al-Sarraj's remarkable instrument. (al-Wafa'I actually owned the astrolabe; his
name is engraved on the edge of the rim.) In his treatise, al-Wafa'I complained
that Ibn al-Sarraj had not explained its use, and so he undertook to do this
himself. It is fortunate that he did, because the use of some of the parts is not
at all obvious. Ibn al-Sarraj emerges as a genius. But who was he? We knew
Fig. 9.8. The universal astrolabe of Ibn al-Sarraj (Aleppo, 1328 or 29), the most
sophisticated astrolabe ever made. (Benaki Museum, Athens, inv. no. 13178.)
Some Illustrations in Islamic Scientific Manuscripts 159
but little about him until 1983, when a richly illustrated manuscript was
discovered in the Chester Beatty Library in Dublin (miscataloged as a Persian
work on the astrolabe). It turned out to be a treatise by Ibn al-Sarraj, probably
in his own hand, describing all of the different varieties of instruments known
to him, and all those invented by him (see figure 9.9). Although this treatise
was clearly written before he developed his quintuply-universal masterpiece,
it provides ample evidence of his background and has yet to be exploited for
the historical information that it contains.
QIBLAH MAPS
Another genre of illustration serves to display the sacred direction (qiblah) of
localities in the Muslim world. The map in figure 9.10 (l.h.s), found in an
eighteenth-century Egyptian treatise, is a crude cartographic attempt to
demonstrate the qiblah in various localities, which are roughly displayed on
an orthogonal latitude and longitude grid. Such maps were prepared already
in the ninth century, and later others were with a more sophisticated projection
of the parallels of latitude and meridians such that the former are straight lines
and the latter ellipses. However, most Muslim cartographers, and surely all
scientists, knew that one could not merely read the qiblah off a map by simply
joining a locality to Mecca and measuring the direction of the line-segment.
The scientists knew that the problem had to be solved on a sphere or on a
mathematically acceptable two-dimensional representation thereof. Although
very few such maps with orthogonal grids specifically designed to fmd the qiblah
are known, in 1989 there appeared at Sotheby's in London a cartographic
representation of a much more sophisticated kind, on which the meridians are
no longer equally spaced, and the parallels of latitude are no longer parallel
(see figure 9.11). The combination is so devised as to enable the user to read
off the qiblah on the circular scale and to read off the distance from Mecca
on the diametral rule. The instrument was clearly made in Isfahan around 1710.
It is not too much to hope that somewhere in the vast manuscript sources
available for further study of Islamic science, a treatise on the construction
of such an instrument might one day be found. In April 1994 it was discovered
that the Isfahan world-map represents a cartographic tradition that goes back
at least to ai-Blriinl (ca. 1025), who authored a dozen works on mathematical
cartography, only two of which are known to have survived. A series of Islamic
geographical tables from the fifteenth, fourteenth, and twelfth centuries give,
in addition to the usual longitudes and latitudes, here based on al-Birunrs
distinctive values, the qiblah-values for 250 localities from Spain to China.
The qiblah-values are given to the nearest ten minutes, and it has been shown
that they can only have been derived from a world-map centered on Mecca,
such as is found on the Isfahan instrument. A preliminary notice of this
remarkable cartographic tradition will appear in the article "Samt" in The
Encyclopedia of Islam, new edition.
Fig. 9.9. An illustrtion of the rete of a universal astrolabe in Ibn al-Sarraj's treatise on
astronomical instruments. (MS Dublin Chester Beatty Library 102). By courtesy of the
Chester Beatty Library.
Fig. 9.10. On the left, the Ka'bah is depicted-appropriately inclined to the meridian-on a crude cartographic grid from which one can determine
the qiblah vecy approximately by joining one's city to the Ka'bah (here Bursa is shown connected to the Ka'bah [via Medina]). On the right
is a diagram of sacred geography showing various areas around the Ka'bah and indicating the astronomical horizon phenomena which define
their qiblahs. (MS CAiro Dar al-Kutub Tal'at majiimi' 811.)
162 King
Fig. 9.11. A qiblah-indicator from Isfahan, ca. 1710, unique of its genre. The qiblahs
and distances from Mecca of 150 localities marked on the cartographic grid-which
can be read from the circumferential scale when the diametral rule, center at Mecca,
is laid on the marker for the locality in question-are given accurately for all practical
purposes. (Private collection, photograph from the Museum of the History of Science,
Oxford.)
DIAGRAMS REPRESENTING THE SACRED GEOGRAPHY OF ISLAM
In various Islamic sources, by no means restricted to scientific texts but including
also treatises on the sacred law of Islam and encyclopedias, there are found
illustrations of the divisions of the world around the Ka'bah. The diagrams
of this kind with twelve divisions of the world around the Ka 'bah in the treatises
of Yiiqut and al-Qazwi'ni are well known (see figure 9.12). Their purpose is
to identify regions of the world which have the same qiblah. But these diagrams
are secondary, that is, they were based on more elaborate prototypes, in which
the way to find the qiblah in each sector was described in detail. The instructions
were not to use the qiblahs found by the astronomers using mathematical
Fig. 9.12. An eleven-sector scheme of sacred geography from a manuscript of
Athiir al-bilad (Iraq and Syria, ca. 1250). The information on the qiblnh in each sector
has been suppressed. Also one of the sectors in the original scheme has been ommitted
by mistake (MS Dublin Chester Beatty 4163). By courtesy of the Chester Beatty Library.
164 King
formulae applied to geographical data, but rather to face the risings and settings
of particular fixed stars or of the sun at various times of the year. We now know
that schemes for finding the qiblah in different regions by such procedures were
advocated from the tenth century onward, and that over the centuries some
twenty different schemes of what I call "sacred geography" were formulated.
Many of these were illustrated in the manuscripts (see figures 9.10 [r.h.s.] and
9.13-9.15); others were recorded only in words; and some were used on
astronomical instruments (see figure 9.16). These popular methods for finding
the qiblah were advocated by the legal scholars of Islam, who had little time
for the opinions of the scientists. Their authority lay in the fact that such
procedures had been used by the for laying out some of the earliest
mosques. But why had the used such procedures?
The earliest Muslims knew that when they were standing in front of the
walls of the Ka'bah they were facing significant astronomical directions. Also,
the four comers of the Ka'bah were associated with different regions of the
world, and intermediate regions with particular segments of the perimeter of
the edifice. Thus, when Muslims in those regions wanted to face the appropriate
part of the Ka'bah, they should face those very same directions. (This means
of facing a distant object is quite reasonable if one bears in mind that the direction
of a distant locality is to some extent arbitrary, let alone the direction of a
particular part of a distant edifice.) The diagrams were intended to serve as
aides-memoires to the faithful, as well as to provide pictorial representations
of the entire world and the relation of its regions to the physical focus of Islamic
worship, the Ka'bah.
A DIAGRAM FOR LAYING OUT THE FOUNDATIONS OF A VENTILATOR
Another remarkable diagram in Ibn al-Sarriij's treatises on instruments purports
to display the orientation of the ventilators that were a distinctive feature of
the skyline of medieval Cairo (see figures 9.17 and 9.18). Why \\{>Uld such a
diagram feature in a treatise on astronomical instruments? Since the 1970s, we
have known that in the corpus of astronomical tables that was used in medieval
Cairo for timekeeping and regulating the times of prayer, one table enabled
the user to find by means of the sun the orientation of the ventilator (biidahanj),
namely, winter sunrise (ca. 27 S. of E.). Inspection of the sole surviving
ventilator of any consequence in modern Cairo reveals that it is aligned with
the foundations of the house (the Musiifirkhiine) on whose roof it stands. Indeed,
the house and the whole of the medieval city of Cairo are aligned in this
direction, the major thoroughfare of the city being in the perpendicular direction.
The fact is that the entire medieval city of Cairo was oriented in the qiblah
of the towards winter sunrise. Now, the city was built alongside the
old Pharaonic/Roman Canal from the Nile to the Red Sea, which at that point
flowed perpendicular to that direction, so either the orientation of Cairo is
Fig. 9.13. An eight-division scheme of sacred geography from a manuscript of the treatise
on cosmography by Pseudo-Ibn al-Wardi (Aleppo, ca. 1420). There are several different
traditions of sacred geography iP the numerous manuscripts of his treatise; the illustration
in the published text shows two of these but are hopelessly corrupt. (MS Topkapi Sarayi
Miizesi Kiitiiphanesi A 3025.)
Fig. 9.14. Two different twelve-sector schemes of sacred geography with associated astronomical horizon phenomena for finding the qiblah,
as found in a manuscript of a thirteenth-century Yemeni treatise on folk astronomy. (MS Milan Biblioteca Ambrosiana Supp. 73.)
Fig. 9.15. An Ottoman scheme of sacred geography with 72 divisions of the world around
the Ka'bah, suitable for marking on a horizontal qiblah-indicator (see figure 9.17). (MS
Topkapi Sara)'! Miizesi Kiitiiphanesi B 179.)
Fig. 9.16. An Ottoman sundial cum qiblah-indicator on which a scheme of sacred
geography has been included on the circular base. (Berlin Deutsche Staatsbibliothek,
Sprenger 2048.)
Fig. 9.17. The imposing ventilator on the Musiifirkhiine in Cairo, one of the few surviving
examples. In medieval times, most buildings in Cairo were fitted with such ventilators,
all astronomically oriented (Photo Abu Max.)
Fig. 9.18. A diagram showing the orientation of ventilators in medieval Cairo, found
in the treatise on astronomical instruments of Ibn al-Sarraj (Aleppo, ca. 1325) (MS Dublin
Chester Beatty Library 102). By courtesy of the Chester Beatty Library.
170 al-Munajjid
fortuitous, or-and there is no evidence whatsoever for this-the site was chosen
because the rectangular street pattern would be qib/ah-oriented. A few years
after the city was built, the astronomer lbn Yiinus computed the qib/ah in Cairo
to be 37 S. of E., 10 to the south ofthe qiblah of the $0/}iibah, and the Azhar
and al-l:liikim Mosques were erected 10 askew to the city-plan. Many of the
religious edifices in Cairo constructed by the Marnluks have their outside walls
oriented with the city plan and their inside walls and mil}riibs aligned with the
qiblah of the astronomers. The City of the Dead outside Cairo is aligned with
its main axis perpendicular to the qiblah of the astronomers; architecture in
al-Qariifah is oriented due south, in keeping with the qiblah favored by the
Shiifi 'I school. The different qiblahs accepted in medieval Cairo are shown
in figure 9.19. Thus, a diagram of a ventilator in an astronomical text led to
the discovery of the basic orientations underlying one of the most important
Islamic cities.
N
0
~
.....
01
0)
0
.....
.....
.....
0
co
0
0
-z
-
Fig. 9.19. The different qiblahs accepted in medieval Cairo. In the case of the southerly
qiblahs, any direction between the rising and setting of Canopus 'M>uld have been
considered acceptable.
AN ILLUSTRATION OF THE SIGNIFICANCE OF THE KA 'BAH
A series of Arabic texts, mostly not illustrated and all recently investigated for
the first time, discuss the orientation of the Ka 'bah itself. The base is rectangular
(not square, as is often stated). See figure 9.20 [l.h.s.], with its major axis
pointing toward the rising of Canopus, the brightest star in the southern sky,
and its minor axis pointing toward the setting of the sun at the midwinter solstice.
(At Mecca, these directions are indeed roughly perpendicular.) Thus, admoni-
tions to face the rising of Canopus as the qiblah are common in Andalusia and
Egypt; winter sunset in Iraq and Iran; and summer sunrise in the Sudan and
Ethiopia. But there was no unity of opinion about the orientation of the Ka'bah,
let alone about the qiblahs in the different regions.
One notion which is not illustrated in any medieval Arabic text, but which
is explicit in various wind-schemes described in the manuscript sources, and
which underlies the very origin of the word qiblah, is the following (see figure
9.21). If one stands in front of (istaqbala) the southwest wall of the Ka'bah
(facing summer sunrise), one is facing the east (qabul) wind. The north (shmnill)
wind is on one's left (shamill), blowing from Syria (al-Shilm), and the South
(janub) wind on one's right (yamin), blowing from the Yemen (al-Yaman). The
west wind (dabur) blows on one's back (dabr). This is evidence enough (and
there is more) that the sacred direction (qiblah) of the Arabs in the pre-Islamic
period was towards the east. But there are further meteorological and meteoric
associations of the Ka'bah, not the least the "Black Stone" embedded in the
southeastern corner. While the diagram of the Ka'bah shown in figure 9.20
(r.h.s.) and interpreted in figure 9.22 was taken from an eighteenth-century
Egyptian manuscript, its conception was at least half a millennium older; the
diagram recaptures some of these associations of the edifice. Note that the
Ka'bah is even correctly shown inclined to the meridian. The Aristotelian
overtones-the elements and their qualities-are not attested elsewhere, but the
geographical features and the association with the winds are. I have argued
elsewhere that these pre-Islamic associations of the Ka'bah lend credence to
the Islamic belief that the Ka'bah is a copy of a celestial counterpart, al-bayt
al-ma'mur. In modern terms, I suggest that this implies that it was built as an
architectural representation of a pre-Islamic cosmology, featuring the sun and
stars in its alignment and the winds and rains in its attributions.
CONCLUDING REMARKS
In brief, there are numerous illustrations in the Islamic scientific sources which
can further our understanding of different aspects of Islamic science and even
aspects of Islamic institutions. One should never rely solely on the illustrations
if there is an accompanying text. But the need for facsimile editions of important
manuscripts and of comparative studies of illustrated texts should be obvious.
Fig. 9.20. On the left is a ground-plan of the Ka'bah (the rectangular shape is here exaggerated) and on the right a diagram which associates
the edifice-incorrectly oriented-with the cardinal directions and their intermediaries, the winds, and the qiblahs of various localities. (MS Cairo
Dar al-Kutub' Tal'at majiimi' 811.)
N
dabu r
' ~ .
\ ~
\
~ ~
\ ~
\':).
\ ~
~
janub '
Fig. 9.21. The basic orientation of the Ka'bah and the directions of the four "cardinal"
winds as recorded in various medieval texts. Actually, the minor axis is aligned with
the most southerly setting point of the moon.
Winter
Cold and humid
West Wind
Autumn
Cold and dry
North Wind
Summer
Hot and dry
South Wind
Spring
Hot and humid
E
East Wind
Fig. 9.22. The basic information on the Ka'bah contained in figure 9.20 (r.h.s.). The
orientation of the Ka'bah has been "corrected"; in fact (see figure 9.10 [l.h.s.] and figure
9.21), its major axis is at about 30 E. of S.
174 al-Munajjid
One just has to compare the variety of representations of sacred geography in
a few manuscripts of texts that are well known and that have already been
published, but not in critical editions (for example, al-Qazwini, Yiiqiit, and
Ibn al-Wardl), to recognize the need for such studies.
In 1986, I was in the Bibliotheca Palatina Exhibition in Heidelberg, looking
at a manuscript of Abii al-Fida"s geography from the Bibliotheca Vaticana.
The manuscript was opened to an illustration of the names of various regions
of the world arranged in twenty-eight sectors of a circle (see figure 9.23). The
diagram was quite different from any that I had ever seen, yet I knew that there
was no such diagram in the 1840 published edition of that text. When I got
home, I checked the appropriate place in the text and found a footnote by the
editor at the place where Abii al-Fida' wrote: "I have made a diagram (zil'iraja)
from which can be found the position of every traditional climate and this is
it ... " The footnote read: "La figure qui se trouve ici dans !'original a ete placee
sous forme d'index a Ia fin du volume." In fact, the place names in the diagram
have been swallowed up in the index and are no longer identifiable.
When preparing facsimile editions of manuscripts, strict guidelines must
be followed, otherwise the result can be useless. Tampering with words that
have been partially devoured by worms, removing original folio numbers,
reshuffling folios without comment, and merging fragments from different
copies of the same work without indication, all these contravene the most basic
academic standards. Alas, they are features of the facsimile series published
in recent years in Frankfurt, which has already been devastated by one reviewer
who is a leading specialist on Arabic manuscripts. But the series has problems
other than those which were noted by that reviewer, namely, the meddling with
illustrations.
Two examples must suffice here. Firstly, the constellation figures and stars
in the illustrations of a fine manuscript of al-Siifi's Kitiib $UWar al-kawiikib
have been altered: the result is thus more suited for the proverbial coffee-table
than for the next generation of art historians, who will still have to consult the
original manuscript for the illustrations. Secondly, on a diagram of sacred
geography in the Istanbul manuscript of the second volume of the encyclopedia
entitled Masiilik al-ab$iir j1 mamiilik al-am$ilr, by the early fourteenth-century
Mamluk administrator Ibn Fac;llalliih al-'Umari, the Qur'iinic verse (3: 97), wa-
man dakhalahu kana iimin"", "whoever enters (the Ka'bah) will be safe," has
been written in gold ink on the representation of the Ka 'bah. Now, the modern
scribe who "fixed up" the photos of the various manuscripts for the Frankfurt
facsimile "edition" erased this inscription to insert another one more bold,
and wrote iimina" with t\\U alift at the beginning. The illustrations in medieval
manuscripts deserve more respect than this.
I hope to have shown how manuscripts in general and illustrations in
particular can further our understanding of Islamic heritage. Libraries have
Fig. 9.23. A diagram showing 28 traditional divisions of the world, from a manuscript
of the geographical treatise of Abu al-Fidii' (Hama, ca. 1320) which never made it into
the published text. (MS Vatican arabo 266.)
176 al-Munajjid
these sources in trust and should treat them with the respect they deserve, which
means cataloging them and making them available to scholars. We investigators
should also treat them with respect, for they hold the key to many a mystery.
BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTES
Many illustrations for Islamic scientific manuscripts, some rather spectacular,
are reproduced in S.H. Nasr, Islamic Science: An Illustrated Study (London:
World of Islam Publishing Co. Ltd., 1976). Some 240 extracts from Islamic
scientific manuscripts, many of them illustrated, are to be found in D.A. King,
A Survey of the Scientific Manuscripts in the Egyptian Nationallibrory (Winona
Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1986). See also John E. Murdoch, Album of Science:
Antiquity and the Middle Ages (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1984),
for various illustrations from Islamic scientific manuscripts.
On the activities of Taqi: al-Dln, see A. Sayil1, The Observatory in Islam,
Publications of the Turkish Historical Society, series VII, no. 38 (Ankara: Tiirk
Tarih Kurumu Bastmevi, 1960), pp. 289-305; and A.S. Dnver, Istanbul
Rasathanesi, Tiirk Tarih Kurumu Yaymlanndan, V. Seri, Say1 54 (Ankara: Tiirk
Tarih Kurumu Bastmevi, 1969).
On illustrations of constellation figures, see, for example, the works by
J. Upton and E. Wellesz cited in the bibliography to the article, "al-Sufi," by
Paul Kunitzsch, in The Dictionary of Scientific Biography, 16 vols. (New York:
Charles Scribner's Sons, 1970-78), 8:149-50.
On illustrations in astrological texts, see, for example, Zeren Tamnd1
(Akalay), "/\strological Illustrations in Islamic Manuscripts," Proceedings of
the I. International Congress on the History of Turkish-Islamic Science and
Technology, Istanbul, 14-18 September 1981, pp. 71-90; idem, "An Illustrated
Astrologicai Work of the Period of Iskandar Sultan," Akten des VII,
lnternationalen Kongresses for Iranische Kunst und Archiiologie, Munchen,
17-20 September 1976 (Berlin: Dietrich Reimer Verlag, 1979), pp. 418-25; and
Stefano Carboni, "Two Fragments of a Jalayrid Astrological Treatise in the
Keir Collection and in the Oriental Institute in Sarajevo," Islamic Art 2 (1987),
pp. 149-86.
On non-Ptolemaic planetary theory in Islamic astronomy, see G. Saliba,
"The Astronomical Tradition of Maragha: A Historical Survey and Prospects
for Future Research," Arobic Sciences and Philosophy 1 (1991), pp. 67-99, and
the works there cited.
On illustrations in treatises on engineering, see A.K. Coomaraswamy, The
Treatise of al-Jazari on Automata (Boston: Museum of Fine Arts, 1924); Donald
R. Hill, The Book of Knowledge and Ingenious Mechanical Devices (Dordrecht
(NL) and Boston: Dr. Reidel Publishing Company, 1974); and numerous other
writings by Hill. See also Ahmad Y. al-Hasan and Donald R. Hill, Islamic
Technology: An Illustrated History (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press;
and Paris: UNESCO, 1986). On the independent Andalusian tradition, see the
chapter, "Technologia andalusi," by Donald R. Hill, in Juan Vernet, Julio Samso,
eta!., El Legado Cientifico Andalusi (Madrid: Ministerio de Cultura, 1992),
pp. 157-72.
On Islamic cartography, see the article, "Kharf(a" (Map), by S. Maqbul
Ahmad, in Encyclopedia of Islam, new edition (Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1960- )
(hereafter EP); and various chapters in The Historv of Cartography, eds. J.B.
Harley and David Woodward (Chicago; London: The University of Chicago
Press, 1992), vol. 2, book 1: Cartography in the Traditional Islamic and South
Asian Societies.
On al-Ashraf and his astrolabe, see D.A. King, "The Medieval Yemeni
Astrolabe in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York," Zeitschrift for
Geschichte der arabisch-islamischen Wissenschaften 2 (1985), pp. 99-122, repr.
in idem, Islamic Astronomical Instruments (London: Variorum Reprints, 1987),
2; and on Ibn al-Sarraj and his astrolabe, see ibid., 9. Numerous illustrations
of other instruments and extracts from treatises on instrumentation are found
in idem, "Strumentazione astronomica nel mondo medieval e islamico," a
chapter in G/i strumenti, ed. Gerard Turner (Milan: EJecta, 1990), pp. 154-89
and 580-85, the first of a series of richly illustrated volumes on the history
of sciences, Paolo Galluzzi, general editor. An abridgement of the English
original is published as "Some Remarks on Islamic Astronomical Instruments,"
Scientiarum Historia 18 (1992), pp. 5-23. On the Frankfurt project to catalogue
medieval instruments, see my "Medieval Astronomical Instruments: A Cata-
logue in Preparation," Bulletin of the Scientific Instrument Society 31 (December
1991), pp. 3-7; and also no. 36 (March 1993), pp. 17-18.
On Islamic sacred geography, see my study in Islamic Art; a survey is in
the article, "Makka: As Centre of the World," in EP. See also D. A. King and
G.S. Hawkins, "On the Orientation of the Ka'ba," Journal for History of
Astronomy 13 (1982), pp. 102-9, repr. in King, Astronomy in the Service of
Islam (Aldershot, UK: Variorum Reprints, 1993); idem, and
Astronomy: The Ventilators of Medieval Cairo and Their Secrets," Journal of
the American Oriental Society 104 (1984), pp. 97-133; and idem, Richard Lorch,
"Qibla Charts, Qibla Maps, and Related Instruments," in History of Cartography
2:1, pp. 189-205.
On facsimile editions of manuscripts and how they should not be prepared,
see J.J. Witkam, Manuscripts in Distress: The Frankfurt Facsimile
Series," Manuscripts of the Middle East 4 (1989), pp. 175-80. For some
suggestions concerning facsimile editions of Islamic scientific manuscripts which
would be of use to scholars, see my paper, "Some Remarks on Islamic Scientific
Manuscripts and Instrument, and Past, Present and Future Research," in The
Significance of Arabic Manuscripts, ed. John Cooper (London: Al-Furqan
Heritage Foundation, 1992), pp. 115-43 (some of the illustrations have been
shuffled and no longer correspond to the captions).
10
A Royal Manuscript and Its Transformation:
The Life History of a Book
Priscilla P. Soucek and Filiz l;agman
The focus of this essay is a single volume now in the Topkap1 Saray1 Library,
Istanbul, Hazine 1510.
1
The importance of this book derives both from its
intrinsic quality and from the way in which its life history can be reconstructed
on the basis of physical and historical evidence. Despite or perhaps because
of its checkered career, this book sheds light on a little studied dimension of
Islamic manuscripts-the Wfrl they have been transformed from the moment
of their initial creation until the present day.
Recent studies have stressed how the rulers of Iran during the fourteenth
through sixteenth centuries employed calligraphers, painters, illuminators, and
binders to produce sumptuous volumes for their personal libraries. Indeed, the
commissioning of books bearing royal names and titles appears to have become
an attribute of princely status and power.
2
The special prestige attached to books
with a royal or princely provenance appears to have encouraged another method
of book collection used by rulers, that of appropriating volumes from each
other's libraries.
3
Although there are few documentary records of these
transactions, the transfer of books from one owner to another has often left
physical traces in the manuscripts which can be used to reconstruct the history
of a book.
Elements in a manuscript indicating a change of ownership include repainted
dedication pages, altered colophons, and the addition or deletion of library seals.
In case of illustrated manuscripts, paintings are not infrequently different in
date and provenance from the manuscript's text itself. Sometimes illustrations
were added over the text, or even over earlier paintings. The motives which
led to the alteration of manuscripts undoubtedly varied, but in some cases a
group of manuscripts display similarities in the way they were altered; this makes
it possible to speculate about the reasons for such changes.
Hazine 1510 is notable for the variety of transformations it has undergone.
It contains evidence that it was originally produced for a royal owner and that
179
180 Soucek and (:agman
it was subsequently seized by a rival ruler. It also has both paintings connected
with its original patron and others added at a later date. Some of the later
paintings obscure earlier ones, others are added directly over the text. These
physical changes were accompanied by efforts to conceal the book's original
provenance and date. The technique and style of the later paintings link Hazine
1510 with a group of manuscripts some of which also have colophons giving
similar falsified dates and provenance.
Evidence suggests that Hazine 1510 has had a long and complicated life.
Various components of it can be dated over a hundred and fifty year period
during which the manuscript probably traveled from Shiraz to Herat and finally
to Istanbul. An identification of these phases demands a knowledge of
manuscript production under the Muzaffurid, Timurid, Safavid, and Ottoman
dynasties. It also can be linked with three rulers: the Muzaffarid Shah Shuja',
and the Timurids Shah Rukh and Sultan ijusayn Bayqara. What is perhaps even
more intriguing is that one of its transformations involved more than a hint
of fraud; although, who defrauded whom remains a mystery.
Before turning to the various transformations to which Hazine 1510 has
been subjected, it is necessary to examine its contents. The text of 760 folios
has three distinct components: a Shiih-nilmah of Firdaws1 (fols. 2b-484b), a
dictionary by Asad1 Tiis1 entitled Lughat at-Furs (fols. 485b-498a), and a
Khamsah ofNi?funl (fols. 499a-775b). The manuscript also contains three dated
colophons (fols. 7a, 484b, 775b), two dedication pages (fols. Ia, 499a), and
what appears to be a portion of a chancery document (fol. 498a). Another
important component is the manuscript's battered but once splendid binding
with lacquer painting on the exterior and filigree and molded ornament on the
interior. There are poetic inscriptions on the binding's doublure and the exterior
of its flap.
4
This essay on Hazine 1510 attempts to reconstruct the history and evolution
of its component parts-the Shiih-nilmah and its associated text Lug hat at-Furs,
the Khamsah of and the binding, and to consider how and when they
were joined to form the present manuscript. The primary evidence fur this study
comes from internal evidence in the Hazine 1510 itself and from its comparison
to other manuscripts. This analysis will be divided into several sections. First,
the text's provenance and the date of its component parts will be established;
then its links with the Timurid rulers Shah Rukh and ijusayn Bayqara will be
studied; and the binding's importance will also be analyzed.
Only the late Ivan Stchoukine has published comments on the artistic
character of this manuscript. He rerers to Hazine 1510 in three publications,
an article and two monographs: one on Turkish painting, and a second on
illustrated copies of Khamsah.
5
His analysis of Hazine 1510 focused
exclusively on its illustrations and was based on the information in F. E. Karatay's
catalogue of Persian manuscripts in the Topkap1 Saray1 Library, namely that
-I
A Royal Manuscript and Its Transformation 181
the Shiih-niimah and Lughat al-furs were copied by M a n ~ i i r ibn Mubammad
ibn Warqah ibn 'Umar Bakhtiyar in 903/1498 and that the Khamsah was
completed in 906/1501 by Lutf Allah ibn Yabyii ibn Mubammad al-TabrizL
6
Karatay makes no mention of the manuscript's dedicatory medallions, nor does
he raise any questions about the veracity of information contained in its
colophons.
Stchoukine concluded that paintings in the Shiih-niimah portion of Hazine
1510 were added in the Safavid period, circa 1520-25, and that those in the
Khamsah portion were added in Turkey circa 1570. He finds specific Turkish
parallels for both the painting's landscape and figural elements.? This position
led him to assume that very similar landscape paintings in an often published
Anthology dated to 801/1398 were also executed in Istanbul circa 1570.
8
This
manuscript is now in the museum of Turkish and Islamic Art, Istanbul, T. 1950.
Recently three Persian scholars have published comments about the
character of Hazine 1510's text. The most extensive description is that by J.
Khaliqi-Mut}aq in his analytical articles discussing the manuscripts of Firdawsrs
Shiih-niimah which he has been using to prepare his edition of that text. In
them he describes both the physical characteristics of Hazine 1510 and the
importance of its text recension. His description of Hazine 1510 is more precise
than that of F. E. Karatay, as he mentions the Shiih-niimah's two colophons,
in addition to its initial medallion and the document on folio 498a. Although
he appears somewhat puzzled by its putative date of 903/1498, J. Khiiliqi-Mutlaq
stresses the archaic features of Hazine 1510's text and its close kinship with
the Florence manuscript dated to 614/1217.
9
He also brought the Lug hat at-Furs
portion of this manuscript to the attention of F. A. Mujtaba'I and A. A. Sadiqi,
who were preparing a new edition of that work. In their prefuce these authors
mention that Hazine 1510's version of the Lug hat at-Furs differs in significant
respects from the other manuscripts which they used to prepare their edition.
They were not able, however, to evaluate the importance of its idiosyncracies.
10
These Persian scholars, who oorked from microfilms, assume the Shiih-niimah's
present colophon date of 903/1498 to be correct.
Despite the attention which has been given to both Hazine 1510's illustrations
and to portions of its text no analysis has yet been made of its calligraphy,
illumination, or binding, nor of their importance for the manuscript's history.
Hence, it is necessary to establish the date and place of the manuscript's origin
through an examination of its calligraphy and illumination and by subjecting
its colophons to a critical analysis before considering Stchoukine's views on
the paintings of Hazine 1510, and those of Khaliqi-Mutlaq about its Shiih-niimah
text. A physical examination of Hazine 1510 shows that the two main components
of its text, the Shiih-niimah and the Khamsah, although distinct in their features,
are closely related in execution. Both have the same page size (26.1 by 16.3
em), but they differ in their written surfaces. The Shiih-niimah has twenty-
182 Soucek and c;:agman
seven lines spaced over 19.2 em, whereas the Khamsah has twenty-five lines
in 17.5 em.
Despite the fact that both portions of Hazine 1510 have colophon dates from
the tenth Hegira century, the character of their illumination and calligraphy
connects them with fourteenth-century Shiraz, a city that was a center of both
literary culture and manuscript production. Both portions can be proven to
belong firmly to that tradition, although at some later moment these connections
were intentionally obscured. The affinity of Hazine 1510 with the manuscript
tradition of Muzaffarid Shiraz as well as the later deliberate obfuscation of that
connection can be documented through a study of its colophons.
The most direct evidence for Hazine 1510's link with Shiraz comes in the
Khamsah colophon, folio 775b (figure 10.1). There the calligrapher Lutf Allah
al-Tabrizi describes himself as both the manuscript's scribe and illuminator
(katahahu mz dhahhahahu) and gives its place of production as Dar al-mulk
Shfraz.
11
He also gives his laqah, or honorific epithet, as "Kamal al-Jalali,"
which probably links him to the last important Muzaffarid ruler, Jalal al-din
Shah Shuja' (ruled 765/1357-786/1384). An examination of the colophon also
shows tnat its present date, Rajah 906/January-February 1501, is not the original
one. Only the terminal element sitt (six) is untouched: the number giving the
decade has been virtually erased, and the century was modified so that sah'a
miyah (700) has become tis'a miyah (900). The original date contained the
numbers 7_6; since remaining traces suggest the missing decade was sah'in
(seventy), the original date was probably Rajah 776/December 1374- January
1375.
An examination of the Shiih-namah portion of Hazine 1510 shows that its
colophon date of 5 Dhii' al-l:lijjah 903 has been altered, in a similar fashion,
by erasing the decade and changing sah'a miyah (700) to tis'a miyah (900)
(figure 10.2). In this case the erased decade appears to be thamanin (80) which
means that the original date must have been 783/1382, thus also within the reign
of Shah Shuja'.
A further confirmation of the Muzaffarid origin of this manuscript is offered
by the identity of its scribe who gives his lineage for five generations:
ibn Mul)ammad ibn Warqah ibn 'Umar b. Bakhtiyar, and adds a nishah, "al-
Bihbihani," followed by a geographical gloss: min a' mal Jabal Jiluyah (figure
10.2). The same scribe has used a virtually identical signature formula in the
well-known Anthology now in the museum of Thrkish and Islamic Art (T. 1950)
dated to Muharram SOl/September-October 1398 mentioned above
12
(figure 10.3).
The geographical references in this signature draw attention to
link with the village of Bihbihan in the region of Kiih Giliiyeh situated northwest
of Shiraz. Little is known about Bihbihan, which appears to have been a small
settlement in a fertile valley, but it was the successor to a much more important
town, Arrajan or Kiirat Qubad, which had been situated at the juncture of roads
Fig. 10.1. Topkap1 Saray1 Miizesi, Hazine 1510, fol. 775b, Colophon ofNi:(:ml Khamsah
Fig. 10.2. Topkap1 Saray1 Miizesi, Hazine 1510, fol. 484b, Colophon of Firdawsi
Shah-niimah.
Fig. 10.3. Tiirk ve Islam Eserleri Miizesi, T. 1950 fol. 464b, Colophon of Khusraw
Dihlavi, 'Alnah-i Iskandaii.
linking Isfahan and Shiraz with Ahwaz, Basrah, and Baghdad. Arrajan was
ruined by invasions and conflict between the Isma'ilis and various rulers during
the eleventh and twelfth centuries. Before its devastation the area was noted
for its fertility and abundant water. The dates and pomegranates of Arrajan
were especially prizedP It is most unlikely, however, that Bihbihan was a center
of manuscript production.l
4
A Shiraz provenance for both the Shiih-niimah portion of Hazine 1510 and
the Anthology, T. 1950 is also suggested by the illumination used in both
manuscripts which contains dense gold vegetal scrolls silhouetted against blue,
black, white, or green fields.
15
This style of illumination was widely used in
Shiraz manuscripts from circa 1370 to circa 1430.
16
As befits a royal commission,
the headings of various books in the Hazine 1510 Khamsah are executed with
more intense colors and heavier gold pigments than are most Shiraz manuscripts.
The Shiih-niimah portion of Hazine 1510 also contains two more colophons,
one without a signature or date on folio 6b at the conclusion of the text's preface,
and another one on folio 7a (figure 10.4). The latter, written on paper that differs
Fig. 10.4. Topkap1 Saray1 Miizesi, Hazine 1510, fol. 7a, "Colopon Signed by Warqah
ibn 'Umar Samarqandi."
in color and texture from that of the original manuscript, contains the "signature"
of one "Warqah ibn 'Umar Samarqandi," and is dated 903 A.H./1498.'7 It seems
probable that this name was chosen both to mimic that of the original Shiih-
niimah scribe M a n ~ i i r al-Bihbihiini by using part of his name, "Warqah ibn
'Umar," and to harmonize with information contained in the l:fusayn Bayqarii
firmlm now affixed to folio 484a, where the scribe of a Shiih-niimah manuscript
is listed as "Warqah ibn 'Umar Samarqandi" (figures 10.2, 10.5).
The insertion of this superfluous colophon appears connected with other
changes made to Hazine 1510, such as the alteration of colophon dates, all of
which had as an aim the deliberate transformation of a Muzaffarid manuscript
into one linked with eastern Iran and the Timurid Sultan l:fusayn Bayqara.
Possible motives for these changes will be considered below.
Fig. 10.5. Topkap1 Saray1 Mi.izesi, Hazine 15Xl, fol. 498a, "Firman in the Name of l:lusayn
Biiyqarii."
188 Soucek and c;agman
Although the illumination and calligraphy of this Shah-namah are of high
quality, the manuscript carries no direct indication of the patron's identity. It
does, however, open with a roundel illuminated in a Muzaffarid style which
may have once contained the name of its owner. At present this roundel contains
the name and titles of the Timurid l;lusayn Bayqara, who ruled in Herat from
1468 to 1506, written on a heavy gold ground which may well conceal an
inscription giving the name of the manuscript's original owner (figure 10.6).
A scrutiny of the Shah-namah section of Hazine 1510 shows, however, that
}:lusayn Bayqara was not the first Timurid to be connected with it. Three folios
bear the library seal of Timur's son Shah Rukh who ruled from Herat from
1405 to 1447.
18
His name also appears in a dedicatory medallion which has been
glued onto the initial page of the manuscript's Khamsah portion
19
(figure 10.7).
Shah Rukh is less known as a patron of calligraphers and painters than
his nephew Iskandar Sultan ibn 'Umar Shaykh or his sons Baysunghur and
Ibrahim Sultan, but he appears to have been a particularly assiduous collector
of manuscripts. Another specimen bearing the imprint of his library seal is
a very early copy of Khusraw Dihlavl's Khamsah dated to 756/1355 which was
used by Soviet scholars as the basis for a critical edition. This manuscript was
copied in Shiraz and one of its two scribes was Mul)ammad ibn Mui)ammad
ibn Mui)ammad known as "Shams al-l:liifi?: al-Shlriizl," who is most probably
the poet Hafi?: .
20
Shah Rukh could have acquired his stock of Shiraz manuscripts in a variety
of ways. His long struggle with the sons of his brother 'Umar Shaykh, including
his defeat of Iskandar Sultan at Isfahan in Mugarram 817/March-April 1415,
and his defeat of Bayqarii in Shiraz one year later in the spring of 818/1416,
provided him with several opportunities to seize manuscripts.
21
No attempt has yet been made to compile information about the contents
of Shah Rukh's library, but from published data it appears that his books retained
their original colophons or illustrations. The use of his seal or the affixing of
a medallion containing his name and titles mark manuscripts as his property,
but do not present a claim that the books were originally prepared for him.
As was noted above, the Shah-namah portion of Hazine 1510 opens with
a similar medallion proclaiming Sultan l:lusayn Bayqarii as its owner. His name
and titles are also included in afirmiin which has been glued to onto folio 498a
below the unsigned colophon of Lug hat at-Furs, the text of which follows the
Shah-namah (fols. 485b-498a) (figure 10.5). Although undated, the Lughat at-
Furs manuscript appears to be contemporary with the Shah-namah, thus circa
1382, and was perhaps also copied by M a n ~ > i i r al-BihbihanL Thefirmiin below
the colophon on folio 498a makes reference to the cost of a Shah-namah
manuscript. Before considering this document, however, it is useful to examine
the illustrations and binding of Hazine 1510.
It is now appropriate to consider Stchoukine's views that both landscape
and figural elements of its Khamsah illustrations were Turkish.
22
This position
l
l
Fig. 10.6. Topkap1 Saray1 Miizesi, Hazine 1510, fol. Ia, Dedication Medallion in the
name of I:Iusayn Biiyqarii.
190 Soucek and Cal!man
Fig. 10.7. Topkap1 Saray1 Miizesi, Hazine 1510, fol. 499a, Dedication medallion in the
name of Shah Rukh.
led him to assume that very similar landscape paintings in an often published
Anthology dated to 801/1398, T. 1950, mentioned above, were also executed in
Istanbul circa 1570_23
Despite flaws in his analysis, Stchoukine did draw attention to two
significant aspects of the Hazine 1510 Khamsah illustrations: that they contain
figures painted in a style often associated with Ottoman Turkey, and that some
of them depict landscapes reminiscent of the well-known examples from the
1398 Anthology. What Stchoukine does not seem to have realized is that
landscape and figural components of the Khamsah paintings belong to two
distinct phases of its creation, and that the later figural compositions now obscure
the earlier landscape paintings.
The presence of landscape paintings under Khamsah figural compositions
is sometimes evident only from the back of a painted page where metallic
pigments have stained the paper. These stains reveal the presence of trees,
mountains, streams, and rocks which are hidden by the later compositions.
24
In other cases, portions of the original landscapes serve as a background to
the later figural paintings,Z
5
and in one case the original landscape scene was
never overpainted
26
(figure 10.8).
Stchoukine's conflation of two stages in the Hazine 1510 Khamsah
illustrations led him in turn to the wrong conclusion about the connection of
its landscape scenes with similar paintings in the Anthology of 1398. Ironically,
his conclusion that both were Ottoman Turkish led him to publish repeatedly
those paintings in Hazine 1510 in which the late-fourteenth-century compositions
were the most visible.27
The only one of the fifteen Khamsah paintings in its original condition
is a landscape located in the Shamf-niimah folio 682b (figure 10.8). The
landscape consists of t'Ml ranges of hills, each outlined by a heavy black line.
One is highlighted in gold, the other in red. A stream, once silver-colored,
arises on the right and flows toward the bottom of the painting, where it is
bordered by strongly colored rocks highlighted with gold.
Although similar landscape elements are also prominent in the paintings
of the 1398 Anthology copied by al-Bihbihanl, there are important
differences between the two groups of paintings. The first is visual; some of
the Anthology paintings are more complex with up to four ranges of hills one
behind the other.
28
The second distinction is functional; all of the Anthology
paintings occupy the spaces left between the colophons and headings of its
sections. Thus, they function as end-papers providing visual interest where
otherwise there would have been a blank space or an empty page. In Hazine
1510, however, all the paintings are placed within text.
The scene on folio 682b, for instance, is in a passage describing a spring
garden, which may explain why it was not repainted (figure 10.8). Several other
paintings in Hazine 1510 are also located in passages which describe a setting
rather than a dramatic moment. Most of the paintings in Hazine 1510 make
extensive use of gold and silver pigments, which are often still visible under
the later additions, or which can be seen on the backs of those pages. For
example a row of golden hills appears along the top of the scene of Khusraw's
Lion combat, and a purple landscape highlighted by gold and silver is visible
under the later figural composition of Farhad carrying Shlrln.
29
From these
indications it appears that the original paintings in the Khamsah portion of
Hazine 1510 were landscapes in rich hues enlivened with gold and silver but
without the addition of any human figures.
Stchoukine's claim that the landscapes from Hazine 1510 and T. 1950 have
an Ottoman Turkish character is contradicted by both documentary and visual
Fig. 10.8. Topkapt Sarayt Mi.izesi, Hazine 1510, fol. 682b, "In Praise of Spring."
evidence. The stylistic features of the Hazine 1510 Khamsah landscape paintings
are also paralleled in Muzaffarid manuscripts with figural painting. Tapestry-
like settings, the use of rich colors highlighted with gold and silver, as well
as a similar treatment of individual motifs are evident in the paintings of a
Shiih-niimah, also in the Topkap1 Palace Library, Istanbul, which is dated to
772/1370.
30
Thus an examination of the text and illumination of Hazine 1510 makes
clear that both are of Muzaffarid date, and the same can be said with confidence
about the landscape paintings which originally illustrated its Khamsah portion.
The questions of when and for what reason figural compositions were added
over those landscapes are more difficult to answer. First, however, the date
and origin of the Shiih-nilmah illustrations must be established.
A close inspection of the Shilh-niimah portion of Hazine 1510 suggests that
it too has been subjected to considerable alteration. It presently has one double-
page illustration (fols. 7b-8a) located between the preface's spurious colophon
(fol. 7a) and the opening of the Shilh-niimah text (101. 8b). There are also twenty-
one paintings of modest size within the text itself. Although there are no traces
of Muzaffarid illustrations, the Shiih-nilmah paintings appear to have been
executed over the manuscript's text.
I. Stchoukine has made a sharp distinction between the Khamsah and Shilh-
niimah paintings, calling the former high quality Ottoman work of circa 1570,
and the latter mediocre Safavid examples from 1510-20.
31
There are certainly
differences of scale and execution between the two groups of paintings: those
in the Khamsah are larger and contain more golden highlights, but these
distinctions are counter-balanced by numerous similarities. A comparison of
"I;>ahhak enthroned" from the Shilh-niimah (fol. 13b) with the enthroned prince
from the Khamsah (fol. 502b) reveals considerable affinities of the two paintings
in compositional structure, coloring, and figural type.
The only major difference between the scenes is that figures in the Shilh-
niimah wear Safavid turbans and ku/iihs, whereas those in the Khamsah scene
have a turban shape closely paralleled in some early Ottoman manuscripts such
as the Selim-niimah of Shukri: executed in the 1520s.
32
Even this distinction may
be moot because flaking paint reveals that the Safavid turbans of the Shiih-
niimah illustration cover others similar in shape to those in the Khamsah (figures
10.9 and 10.10).
The difficulties which Stchoukine encountered in evaluating the date and
provenance of the figural compositions in Hazine 1510 are understandable. The
style of their paintings links each with a period of artistic and historical change
during the first decades of the sixteenth century which coincided with the
formation of the Safavid state, in particular Shah Isma'll's campaigns in
Khurasan during 1510, as well as his defeat by the Ottomans under Sutan Selim
in 1514.
Fig. 10.9. Topkap1 Saray1 Miizesi, Hazine 1510, fol. 13b, "I;>al)l_liik Enthroned."
Fig. 10.10. Topkapl Sarayl Muzesi, Hazine 1510, fol. 502b, "In Praise of His Patron:
A Prince Enthroned."
S u i ~ }:lusayn Bayqara's son, Badi' al-Zamiin Mirza, was a witness to these
events; he was taken to Tabriz by Shah lsma'il in 1510 and then to Istanbul
in 1514 by S u i ~ Selim. The victorious Ottoman army returned to Istanbul laden
with booty that included manuscripts from Shah Isma'il's library, some of which
had probably been taken by the Safavids from the Timurid libraries of Herat
only a few years earlier. Scribes, illuminators, and painters dislocated by these
historical events also moved between Herat, Tabriz, and lstanbul.
33
These momentous changes are also reflected in the illustrated manuscripts
of the period. Traits commonly associated with one center, such as Herat or
Tabriz, can be found side by side with others which have clear links to Ottoman
patronage. It is against this rather confused background that figural illustrations
in both the Shiih-namah and Khamsah sections of Hazine 1510 must be studied.
Some of the manuscripts with comparable paintings also have colophons linking
them to Herat or to the Timurids, but others have a Safuvid or Ottoman
provenance. Many questions surrounding the place of Hazine 1510 among these
manuscripts are beyond the scope of this essay. Here attention will be focused
on a reconstruction of that manuscript's history.
Although the two groups of illustrations have much in common, details
of each find their closest comparisons in different manuscripts. Thus the Shiih-
niimah illustrations are most comparable to paintings with a clear Safavid
pedigree such as those in another Shiih-niimah copy, Hazine 1499
34
and in a
copy of Nava'i's Khamsah, Revan 810.H Manuscripts with the closest artistic
ties to the Khamsah paintings can be linked to Ottoman court patronage. They
include a copy of 'Ali Shir Nava'i's Gharii'ib al-Sighar now in the Egyptian
National Library Cairo, copied in 935/1531-32 by }:lajj Muh}.unmad al-Tabrizi
ibn Malik Al)mad, a calligrapher known to have been employed at the Ottoman
court,3
6
and a second manuscript of Nava'i's poetry copied by the same
calligrapher in 937/1530-31 now in Oxford.
37
A group of manuscripts which deserves special scrutiny for its connections
to the Khamsah paintings of Hazine 1510 are other examples where paintings
have been added over the manuscript's text or inserted into odd spaces in an
earlier manuscript. This group includes Hazine 987, a copy of Jiimi's Divan,
and on of Nava'i's Naviidir al-Shabiib, Revan 805.
38
These manuscripts are
illustrated in a style very similar to that used in late-fifteenth-century Iranian
manuscripts; this style, however, is also connected with paintings in the Selim-
niimah of Shukri and thus, was probably current in Istanbul during the 1520s
and 1530s. Another link between the illustrative style of Khamsah portion of
Hazine 1510 and Ottoman painting is provided by a Diviin of Kamal Khiijandi
in Vienna, A.F. 92. This manuscript, copied in western Iran circa 1480, was
later illustrated with three large paintings and 1,196 vignettes inserted into gaps
in the text. Since in execution illustrations are comparable to ones in the
manuscripts copied by }:liijj Mul;lammad al-Tabrizi mentioned above, it is likely
that they were added in Istanbul.
39
This preliminary survey has suggested a connection between the figural
illustrations of Hazine 1510 and artistic currents in Tabriz and Istanbul during
the early sixteenth century. Yet, as was demonstrated above, Hazine 1510 was
certainly in Herat during the latter decades of the fifteenth century. Evidence
concerning the manuscript's historical evolution is also provided by its binding
and by its firmim in the name of Sultan J:Iusayn Bayqara.
Despite its poor state of preservation, the binding of Hazine 1510 adds an
important dimension to the manuscript's history. The lacquer painted outer
covers are divided into an inner zone consisting of a field broken by a recessed
central medallion with quarter medallions in the comers, and a border zone
of four-lobed and oblong cartouches. Except for their recessed medallions, the
covers are decorated with gold painting on a black ground. The medallions
were painted in red and other colors, and are rimmed by small silver-gilt nails
which probably once supported metal filigree ornaments.
The binding's doublure has a central field with black and gilt leather filigree
ornament silhouetted against a blue paper ground. The outer zone has four-
lobed and oblong gilded cartouches flanked by narrow gold bands. The larger
oblong fields contain stamped inscriptions.
The back covers of Islamic bindings generally have an attached flap which
can be folded under the front cover. Between the flap and the back cover is
a rectangular zone which protects the book's outer margin. Naturally the
dimensions of the connecting area should be equivalent to the height of the
manuscript to be covered.
An examination of the binding of Hazine 1510 reveals a curious feature.
The panel between the back cover and its flap carries two zones of ornament
on both the interior and exterior. The flap's internal decoration is identical to
that of the covers-a central zone of leather filigree and a frame of gilt and
molded cartouches. On this zone's lacquer painted exterior ten inscribed
cartouches are arranged in two horizontal rows.
These exterior cartouches contain verses describing the book for which
the binding was made. The first two refer to Firdawsfs Shah-nai1Ulh, the second
pair speak of N i ~ a m l and his poetry, and the third group, unfortunately damaged,
mention the verses of 'All Shlr Nava'L The final couplet praises the book as
a whole and reiterates its contents. The concluding hemistich reads: Shah-nili1Ulh
va Khamsah va Drvan-i Amfr. Thus it would appear that the binding of Hazine
1510 was made to contain three texts: the Shah-nili1Ulh of Firdawsl, the Khamsah
of N i ~ a m l , and an undetermined portion of the Drvan of 'All Sh!r Nava'L
Perhaps more careful reading of the couplet concerning Nava'l's poetry will
yield clues as to which portion might have been included. The binding would
accommodate forty or fifty more folios. The missing Drvan and the absence
of a reference to Lughat al-Furs do, however, raise the question of whether
this binding was originally made for the manuscripts of Hazine 1510. Before
198 Soucek and <;agman
considering this question further it is necessary to discuss other aspects of the
binding.
Verses inscribed on cartouches framing both covers and flap of the doublure
consist of three rubii'ls or quatrains composed by the Timurid poet 'Abd al-
RalJman Jiim1.
40
Two of them are particularly appropriate tor their location,
for they describe a book and its binding. One quatrain praises the beauty of
the book's pages, using the metaphor of a flowery meadow. Its pages are
compared with rose-petals and its calligraphy with basil.
41
Another quatrain
extols the book's pages because they have given fresh life to ages past and
describes the dazzling beauty of the book's cover, stating that its cover has
transformed leather into the turquoise sphere of the sky and that its spine is
made from braided sunbeams.
42
These verses by Jaml have a significance which goes beyond the history
of Hazine 1510. The second quatrain is of particular interest. Its language about
renewing the past, and its metaphors of sun and sky for a book binding appear
at first fanciful but may in fact be quite literal descriptions of a special book.
These terms could describe a mumqqa' or album consisting of choice specimens
of calligraphy from various periods and bound with a golden, jeweled cover.
Jamfs comparisons of its cover to the turquoise sky and of its spine to
braided sunbeams provide a surprisingly accurate decription of some extant
bindings. These have covers and flap adorned with jirnzekiiri, a technique in
which thin slices of turquoise are inlaid into a metal, usually gold, frame. One
binding with .ftrnzekiiri panels on its covers and flap has a spine of braided
gold wire which it is tempting to equate with Jiimfs "braided sunbeams."
43
Extant bindings with jirnzekiili-decorated covers are of Ottoman court
manufacture. The binding mentioned above, for example, is dated 997/1588-89
by the Koran which it contains. The taste for turqoise and gold bindings,
however, appears to be of Iranian origin, and the Istanbul examples are often
attributed to Persian goldsmiths employed at the Ottoman court.
44
Ottoman court
records also mention jeweled bindings sent as gifts by Safavid rulers, although
none seem to have survived.
45
Jamfs verse suggests that jiruzekiiri bindings
were also produced in Timurid Herat.
Jamfs verses do not reveal the identity of the muraqqa' for which they
were composed, but they may be linked with the most famous Timurid album-
one arranged in 879/1474-75 for S u l ~ i i n I:Iusayn Bayqara. Compiled by royal
order, it evidently contained choice specimens of calligaphy and painting donated
by persons of culture and learning. Although the album itself is lost, its preface
survives in the inshii' manual of a high Timurid official, 'Abdallah Marvarld.
46
If Jamfs verses were composed to praise an album compiled for I:Iusayn
Bayqarii, their later circulation confirms the broader popularity of Timurid
culture. In addition to stamped inscriptions on Hazine 1510, Jiimfs quatrain
about rose-petals and basil is impressed on the doublure of a richly ornamented
Safavid binding.
47
A variant of the second quatrain describing the album's
contents and its dazzling binding is inscribed on the lacquer-painted binding
of a 1544 copy of Jamrs Khamsah.
48
These examples raise the question of
whether there is any particular significance to the use of Jamfs poetry on the
binding of Hazine 1510.
It is evident that Jamrs verses were not composed specifically for the
binding of Hazine 1510, but his quatrain about a book with a golden jeweled
binding appears particularly apposite for it. Although this binding did not have
a spine of braided gold or a cover of turquoises set in gold, it is likely that
some kind of metal fittings once covered the medallions on the binding's cover
and flap now ringed by gilded silver nails.
Some Ottoman bindings combine lacquer-painted covers with jeweled
ornament. One in the Istanbul University Library with the customary gold over
black lacquer field, has jewel-encrusted filigree medallions attached to its cover.
49
The practice of inlaying leather or lacquer bindings with jewels creates an effect
reminiscent of both Safavid and Ottoman metal\\Ork where a dark ground is
enlivened with gold and jewel inlays or medallions. Some of the finest examples
of such metalwork preserved in Istanbul are thought to be of Iranian origin
and may even have formed part of the booty from the Ottoman victory of 1514.
50
The history of lacquer-painted bindings has yet to be written but the
technique was used in Herat from the middle of the fifteenth century onward,
particularly on a book's exterior. An early example inscribed with the name
of the Timurid prince Babur ibn Baysunghur (d. 86111457) has exterior covers
painted in gold on a black ground and doublures with leather filigree medal-
lions.51 One of the most splendid Timurid lacquer bindings is on a manuscript
of the Hasht Bihisht copied for one of Sultan l:lusayn Bayqara's sons, Sultan
MuJ:tammad Mul:tsin in 902/1496-97 by Sultan 'Ali Mashhadi. All surfaces of
its binding are lacquer-painted. The front cover has a medallion scheme, and
the back a field of interlocking lobed medallions.
52
Another lacquer binding connected with Timurid Herat is that on a copy
Sultan I:Iusayn Biiyqara's Dhiin in the Topkap1 Museum, E. H. 1636.
53
Its scheme
follows a traditional pattern with a central medallion and four quarter medallions
in the corners. These units are filled with floml scrolls and cloud-bands executed
in two tones of gold over a black ground.
In the Hazine 1510 binding, these same motifs are used to fill its field and
border cartouches. Indeed, this style of painting appears to have had a
considerable vogue and is found on bindings probably produced in both Safavid
Iran and Ottoman Turkey. At present, it is often difficult to establish the
provenance and date of such bindings probably because of the mobility of
craftsmen in this period.
Provisionally, however, the binding of Hazine 1510 seems to have closer
links with Imnian than Ottoman examples in the design and execution of its
200 Soucek and <;agman
doublure as well as in its use of border cartouches.
54
Sometimes in Safavid
bindings a lacquer painted field with scroll and cloud-band designs is paired
with both stamped and gilded medallions and similarly ornamented border
cartouches.
55
In other cases the external cartouche frame is painted in the fashion
seen in Hazine 1510. One binding of this type even has a doublure scheme with
a filigree field and border cartouches which is also closely analagous in design
to that of Hazine 1510. It is attached to a manuscript dated to 965/1557-58.
56
The doublure of this latter manuscript is, however, also similar in design to
that of the Oxford Lisan al-Tayr copied by l:Hijj Mul)ammad al-Tabri:zi: in
937/1530-31 mentioned earlier.
57
These comparisons highlight one of the key problems facing anyone who
wishes to study the history of bindings. It is at present difficult to distinguish
between similarites due to conservatism in the artistic and technical traditions
of bindings and chronological ambiguities created by transferring bindings from
one manuscript to another. Redecoration or repair of bindings also adds an
element of confusion to their chronology.
At present what can be established is that Hazine 1510's binding was
probably made by an Iranian craftsman during the first decades of the sixteenth
century in either Iran or Turkey. If it was originally created to house the
manuscripts it now contains, it may be contemporary with the insertion of the
firman and the changes made to the manuscript's colophons, that is, sometime
after 906/1503.
Now that the contents and binding of Hazine 1510 have been analyzed, it
is appropriate to examine the text with the name of l:lusayn Bayqara mentioned
above. This document is written on another piece of paper which has been pasted
over the fourteenth-century page (figure 9.5). Although portions of the paper
are abraded as though some of the text had been erased and then rewritten,
58
in the main the document appears to be authentic, if truncated. It lacks headings,
seals, colophons, and endorsem ents.
59
The document is written in two different scripts, and has two sections:
an upper one in one in black-outlined gold script which contains invocations,
the titles and epithets of l:lusayn Bayqara and the royal decree, and a lower
portion in black labeled as a bar-avard, or estimate of expenses, for the
production of a Shah-namah manuscript. The text specifies that the manuscript
in question is being forwarded to the accountants (mustawfiyan) of the royal
Divan along with thefirmiin proper. The firman requests that individuals listed
in the bar-avard be recompensed for the expenses and labor involved in the
production a manuscript which must have been presented (unsolicited?) to Sultan
I:Iusayn Bayqara. Those named in the bar-avard are probably to be identified
with the "skilled men" (as}Jiib-i khibrat) and the "learned" (ahl-i danish) praised
in the opening invocation.
The bar-avard also has two sections: an upper one that gives the total cost
of the manuscript, four !Umiins, 2,450 dinars, and a lower one arranged in five
columns, that lists the amounts to be paid to specified individuals. The five
columns are labeled (from right to left): kaghaz (paper), kitabat (copying),
tazhib (gilding), jadval (margination), and (painting).
For each category, the column lists the person(s) to be paid, the cost per
item, and the number of items involved. Thus, under paper we see mention
of the purchase of kaghaz-i hitayi, or Chinese paper, the name Khwaja Murshid-i
Kashgarl, the quantity of 600 pages (awraq), and the unit price of twenty dinars
a page (waroq) for a total of 12,000 dinars. In the second column, copying,
the calligrapher is identified as Maw lana Warqah ibn 'Umar Samarqandl, who
copied 63,000 bayts at 250 dinars per thousand bayts for a total of 15,750 diniirs.
In the third column under illumination the craftsmen are listed as Sharaf al-
Dln and Jalal al-Dln Kirmaru, and they are to be given a total of 6,000 dinars
for executing four illuminated pages. The two marginators, U stad AJ:tmad and
Mawlana MuJ:tammad Haravl completed sixty juz' at the price of forty dinars
a juz' for a total of 2,400 dinars. Last comes the painter, 'Abd-ul-Wahhab
Mashhadl, who executed twenty-one scenes at 300 dinars apiece
for a total of 6,300 diniirs. When added together these sums equal 42,450 diniirs,
or 4 tumilns, 2,450 dinars.
60
Various aspects of this text are worthy of closer study, but here the focus
will be on its significance for the history of Hazine 1510. This bar-avard
describes the cost of a Shah-namah manuscript consisting of 600 leaves, or
60 gatherings, containing 63,000 verses with 4 illuminated headings or pages
and 21 paintings. When these numbers are compared to the Shah-namah of
Hazine 1510 questions arise. The most difficult to reconcile are the figures
concerning the manuscript's length-63,000 verses on 600 folios or 60 juz'.
The Hazine 1510 Shah-namah, however, has only 484 folios, and approxi-
mately 52,000 verses.
61
The relative brevity of this Shah-namah copy has been
interpreted by J. Khaliqi-Mutlaq as a sign of its unusual conservatism and fidelity
to Firdawsfs original text.
62
Now that Hazine 1510 has been identified as a
Muzaffarid manuscript that probably was copied in 783/1382, its relationship
to other early, accurate copies of the Shah-namah should receive even greater
attention, especially in connection with efforts to reconstruct Firdawsi's original
text.
63
The firmiln's data on illuminations and paintings is more compatible than
its text description with the present condition of Hazine 1510. The Shah-namah
could be described as having four illuminations, namely an initial medallion,
folio la, two illuminated pages at the opening of the preface, folios 2b-3a, and
a fourth page at the beginning of the poem itself, folio 8b. The listing of twenty-
one paintings is also accurate if the double page painting situated between the
preface and the body of the poem is excluded. The Shilh-namah of Hazine 1510
now has twenty-three paintings, but two of them added on blank pages between
the preface and body of the Shah-niimah may well have been added to the
manuscript at a later date (fols. 7b-8a).
Although it is logical to assume that this document describes the manuscript
to which it is affixed, such a conclusion leaves major questions unanswered.
The basic discrepancy between the firmiin and Hazine 1510 lies not in the
inconsistency of its numbers but rather stems from its implicit origin and
purpose. The document appears to describe a routine court transaction in which
Sultan l:fusayn Bayqara accepted a manuscript presented to him by its makers
and ordered them to be recompensed for their efforts. The document's stress
on "people of learning" suggests that some of those involved were scholars,
and the relatively small sum to be expended for paintings may imply that they
were of modest size and quality. Finally, it does not seem probable that the
treasury of l:fusayn Bayqara >Mmld have expended the considerable sums listed
here for paper, copying, illumination, and margination if it had been suspected
that the manuscript in question had been written, illuminated, and marginated
more than a hundred years earlier.
If the finniin and Hazine 1510 had separate origins, what is the significance
of their present juncture? Here only a provisional answer to this question can
be given. It seems probable that the insertion of this document into Hazine
1510 is connected with alterations in its colophon dates: from 783 to 903 in
the Shiih-niimah and from 776 to 906 in the Khamsah and with the addition
of a superflous colophon dated to 903 in the name of "Warqah ibn 'Umar
Samarqandi." This scribal name, chosen to harmonize with that of the original
Shiih-niimah calligrapher, was then inserted into the firmiin after the name of
its original scribe had been erased. The superflous colophon's use of the nisbah
"Samarqandi" buttressed "Warqah's" credentials as a Timurid calligrapher and
strengthened Hazine 1510's connection with S u l ~ n l:fusayn Bayqara's finniin.
A desire to provide a Herat pedigree for Hazine 1510, and to harmonize it with
the Shiih-niimah manuscript described in the firmiin may also have stimulated
the addition of twenty-one paintings to its previously unillustrated Shiih-niimah
text. It is even possible that the addition of Sultan l:fusayn Bayqara's name to
the Shiih-niimah's initial medallion had the same goal.
The changes suggested above seem to have had a related aim and purpose:
to transform a manuscript from Muzaffarid Shiraz that had belonged to Shah
Rukh into one from Timurid Herat which was linked with the patronage of
S u l ~ n l:fusayn Bayqara. The addition of the now missing Divan by 'All Shir
Nava'i could also have formed part of the same goal and given Hazine 1510
yet another connection with Timurid Herat. A new binding inscribed with the
verses of Jarni and embellished with jewels may have completed this process
of transformation.
In order to examine the plausibility of these hypotheses, the questions
surrounding Hazine 1510 must be considered in the larger context of its time.
It seems unlikely that these changes antedate the death of l:fusayn Bayqara in
912/1506, or the end of his dynasty the following year. The pillaging of Herat
by the Safavids in 1510 must have put both Timurid documents and manuscripts
into wider circulation and may provide the terminus ante quem for various
changes made to Hazine 1510.
If the transformation of Hazine 1510 occurred after the end of the Timurid
dynasty, with the goal of "Timuridizing" a Muzaffarid manuscript, it must have
been done in a place where things Timurid had a high prestige. Three possible
locations come to mind: the Uzbek domains of Khurasan and Transoxiana,
Safavid Tabriz, and Ottoman Istanbul. Further investigation is needed before
a definite conclusion can be reached, but stylistic features of the paintings added
to the Shiih-niimah and of the manuscript's binding point to Tabriz, whereas
the Khamsah paintings suggest a link to Istanbul. Perhaps both features can
be explained by the well-documented presence of Iranian craftsmen at the
Ottoman court and the high prestige which Timurid culture and art enjoyed
in sixteenth-century Istanbul.
NOTES
1. F. E. Karatay, Topkap1 Saray1 Muzesi Kutuphanesi rorsq Yazmalar
Katalogu, [hereafter FYK] (Istanbul, 1961), no. 348, p. 131.
2. Thomas W. Lentz and Glenn D. Lowry, Timur and the Princely Vision
(Los Angeles, 1989).
3. The history of another Topkap1 manuscript, Hazine 762, is a good
example of the transfer of a book from one royal owner to another. See Ivan
Stchoukine (Les Peintures des manuscrits de Ia ''Khamseh'' de Nizaml. au
Topkap1 Samy1 Muzesi d'fstanbul (Paris, 1966), ms. no. 13, pp. 71-81).
4. The authors would like to thank A.H. Morton of the University of
London for his transcription of numbers contained in the.finniin, and K. Eslami
of Princeton University for assistance in interpreting the finniin's text. They
also benefited from discussing the binding's inscriptions with F. Bagherzadeh
of Paris and A.-M. Schimmel of Harvard University.
5. I. Stchoukine, "Origine turque des peintures d'une Anthologie persane
de 801/1398," Syria 42 (1965), pp. 139-40, pl. 11; idem, In Peinture turque
d 'apres les manuscrits illustres fer partie; de Sulayman fer a Osman II:
f520-f622 (Paris, 1966), pp. 64, 111, pl. 25a & b; idem, Les Peintures des
manuscrits, ms. no. 65, pp. 150-51, pis. 79,80.
6. Karatay, FYK, no. 348, p. 131.
7. Stchoukine, Peinture turque, pp. 64, 111.
8. M. Aga-Oglu, "The Landscape Miniatures of an Anthology of the year
1398," Ars lslamica 3 (1936), pp. 77-98; Stchoukine, "Origine Turque," pp.
137-39.
9. Jaliil "Mu'arrifi wa 'aq:yiibl-yi barkhl iiz dastnavishii-
yi Shiih-niirnah," (2), lrim-namah, 4:1 (1364/1985), 30-31, 35-36; (3), lran-
namah, 4:2 (1364/1985) 248, 250-53. The authors would like to thank Mr. K.
Eslami for bringing these references to their attention.
10. Asadi Tlisl, Lughat-i Furs, ed. Fatl:l Allah Mujtabii'i, 'Ah Ashraf Siidiqi,
(Tehran, 1365/1986), p. 13. The authors would like to thank Mr. K. Eslami
for bringing this publication to their attention.
11. Allah also copied a manuscript of Firdawsfs Shah-namah now
in the Egyptian National Library, Cairo, which is dated to 796/1392-94 (1.
Stchoukine, "Les Manuscrits illustn!s musulmans de Ia bibliotbeque du Caire,"
Gazette des Beaux Arts 77, no. 3 (January-June 1935), p. 141).
12. The principal difference between the T. 1950 (fol. 464b) colophon and
that of Hazine 1510 (fol. 484b) is that the former uses a Persian form for this
gloss: min a'mal kut giluyeh.
13. Heinz Gaube, Die sudpersische Provinz Arragan/Kuh-Giluyeh von der
arabischen Eroberung his zur Safawidenzeit (Vienna, 1973), pp. 15, 25, 72-77.
14. As suggested by A. Sarkisian, La Miniature persane du Xlle au XVI/e
siecle (Paris, 1929), p. 33.
15. Hazine 1510, fol. lb, 2a; T. 1950, fol. lb, 2a.
16. For an early example see M. Lings, Ihe Quranic Art of Calligraphy
and Illumination (Westerham, Kent, 1976), p. 119, pl. 60, and for a late one
see ibid., p. 172, pis. 82-83.
17. The page appears to have been inserted after the manuscript had been
written.
18. Hazine 1510, fols. 6a, 222a, 377a.
19. Hazine 1510, fol. 499a.
20. Manuscript no. 2179, Tashkent, Institute of Oriental Sciences of the
Uzbek Academy of Sciences, Miniatures Illuminations of Amir Hosrov Dehlevi 's
Ubrks, ed. H. Suleimanov, pls. 87, 88; Amir Husraw Dikhlavi, Matla' al-anwiir,
ed. T.A-0. Magerramov (Muharramov) (Moscow, 1975), pp. 74-76; another
manuscript of probable Shiraz origin once in the library of Shah Rukh is a
copy of Farld al-Din 'Attar's Jawhar al-ziit now in the bsterreichische
Nationalbibliothek, Vienna, A. F. 384. This manuscript also contains the seal
of the Ottoman ruler Beyazit II. (D. Duda, lslamische Handscriften: I Persische
Handschriften, 2 vols. (Vienna, 1983), vol. I, pp. 52-53; vol. 2, figs. 8-9.).
21. 'Abd al-Razzaq Samarqandl, Matfa' al-Sa'dayn, ed. M. Shafi' (Lahore,
1946), vol. 11:1, pp. 162, 164-66.
22. Stchoukine, Peinture turque, pp. 64, Ill.
23. M. Aga-Oglu, "The Landscape Minniatures," pp. 77-98; Stchoukine,
"Origine turque," pp. 137-39.
24. Hazine 1510, fols. 540a, 545b, 566a, 636b, 675b, 713a, 775b.
25. Hazine 1510, fols. 502b, 512b, 547b, 563a.
26. Hazine 1510, fol. 682b.
27. Stchoukine, Peintures des manuscrits, pls. 79a, 80. See note 4 above.
28. Some of these lush settings containing palm trees and pomegranates
may depict the calligrapher's native region of Kiih Giliiyeh.
29. Hazine 1510, fols. 547b, 563a; see Stchoukine, Peintures des manuscrits,
pls. 79a, 80.
30. Hazine 15ll; B. Gray, "The School of Shiraz from 1392 to 1453," in
The Arts ofthe Book in Central Asia: 14th-/6th Centuries (Paris, 1979), pl.
34, fig. 71.
31. Stchoukine, Peinture turque, pp. 64, Ill.
32. Ibid., no. 8, p. 51, pls. 6-7.
33. F. ~ a g m a n , "The Miniatures of the Divan-i Hiisayni and the Influence
of Their Style," in Fifth International Congress of Turkish Art, ed. G. Feher
(Budapest, 1978), pp. 231-59, esp. 241-42.
34. Stchoukine, Peinture turque, no. 20, pp. 58-59; E. Atil, Turkish Art
(Washington, DC, 1980), pl. 18.
206 Soucek and <;:agman
35. A. S. Levend, Ali Sir Nevai: lll: Hamse (Ankara, 1967), illus. between
pp. 16-17, 152-53, 215-17, 264-65.
36. Ibid., pp. 237-38; I. Stchoukine, "Les Manuscrits illustres musulmans
de la bibliotheque du Caire," Gazette des Beaux Arts 77 (January-June 1935),
pp. 151-52; L. Binyon, J.V.S. Wilkinson, B. Gray, Persian Miniature Painting
(London, 1933), no. 140, p. 133, pl. 90b.
37. Oxford, Bodleian Library, Or. 195, Navii'i:, lisiin al-Tayr, in Miniatures
Illustrations of Alisher Navoi 's Works, pls. 182-91.
38. <;:agman, "Miniatures of the Divan-i Hiiseyni," pp. 229-30, figs. 22-23.
39. Duda, Islamische Handschriften I, vol. I, pp. 30-33, Abb. 333-37;
see above, notes 33 and 34.
40. [' Abd al-Ra):lman Jam!], Divan-i kiimil-i Jiimi, ed. H. Ra<;li (Tehran,
1341s/1962), [n.p.], "Rubii'iyiit," nos. 48, 77, 213, pp. 815, 818, 835.
41. Ibid., no. 48, p. 815.
42. Ibid., no. 213, p. 835.
43. Topkap1 Palace Museum 2/2132, in The Anatolian Civilisations III,
"Ottoman" (Istanbul, 1983), no. E 199, pp. 229-30.
44. See also C. Koseoglu, The Topkap1 Saray Museum: The Treasury (New
York, 1980), pl. 81, p. 202.
45. F. <;:agman, "Serzergeran Mehmet Usta ve Eserleri, in Kemal (:ig'a
Armagan (Istanbul, 1984), p. 54, esp. notes 13, 15.
46. ['Abdallah Marvarld], Staatsschreiben der T!muridenzeit, ed. and trans.
H. Roemer (Wiesbaden, 1952), no. 74, pp. 131-34, 199-200, facsimile fols.
74a-76a; for a transcription of the text, see M. Haravl, "Muraqqa'-sazl dar
dawrah-i Tiiniirlyan," Hunar va Mardum, no. 143, 1305s, pp. 34-36.
4 7. An unidentified binding illustrated on the cover of the first volume of
Turkiye Yazmalan Toplu Katalogu (Istanbul, 1982).
48. A. F. 6 6, Osterreichische Nationalbib1iothek, Vienna (D. Duda,
Islamische Handschriften: I Persische Handschriften [Vienna, 1983] vol. II,
Abb. 35.)
49. <;:agman, "Serzergeriin Mehmet Usta," p. 54, note 14.; Istanbul
University Library, A. 6546, a Qur'han copied by Yedikulf Sayyid 'Abdallah
in 112711715. The binding may be earlier than the text it encompasses.
50. Koseoglu, The Treasury nos. 74-76, p. 200.
51. Duda, lslamische Handschsriften, vol. I, 71-72; vol. II, Abb. 18-20.
52. Aslanapa, "Art of Bookbinding," p. 64, pis. 17-18.
53. Ibid., p. 63, ill. 29; <;:agmen, "Miniatures of the Divan-i Hiiseyni,"
pp. 231-33.
54. For examples with a clear Ottoman provenance, see Z. Tarund1, "Riigani
Tiirk Kitap Kaplarinin Erken brnekleri," in Kemal (:ljfa Armagan, pp. 223,
226-32, figs. 1, 5-11, 13-21; Soliman le Magnifique (Paris, 1990), no. 130; M.
Rogers and R. Ward, Suleyman the Magnificent (London, 1988), no. 24a-b,
pp. 80-81.
55. 'All Sh!r Nava'l, Khamsa, Dorn 560, Leningrad State Public Library,
in Miniatures lllustrations, pls. 43-58. This manuscript appears to be of
sixteenth-century western Iranian origin, although it has a colophon which
alleges that it was copied in Timurid Herat in 898/1492-93.
56. Haldane, Islamic Bookbindings, pl. 83, p. 82.
57. Miniatures Illustrations, pl. 183.
58. The most abraded section contains the calligrapher's name, "Warqah
b. 'Umar," however, his nisbah "al-Samarqandl," appears to be original.
59. Concerning the form of firmims see Tadhkirat al-mutuk: a manual of
Safavid Administration, ed. trans. V. Minorsky, appendix 4b, pp. 199-200.
60. The authors would like to thank Prof. A. H. Morton for assistance
in reading this document.
61. Manuscripts of Firdawsfs Shiih-niimah vary considerably in length,
but a length of 63,000 verses would be compatible with a manuscript of 600
folios copied with four text columns of twenty-seven lines to the page, a common
page length. See, for example, Hazine 1515 with 622 folios and twenty-three
lines per page (F. Karatay, Farsc;a lflzmalar, no. 334, p. 127).
208 Soucek and c;agman
62. Khaliqi-Mutlaq, "Mu'arrifi .. . Shah-niimah," (3), IN, vol. 4:2, pp. 240,
250-53.
63. This new date would appear to move Hazine 1510 from its current
position as number forty-five to number eight in his list of Shah-namah
manuscripts arranged by date, and from number fifteen to number six in his
listing of complete copies of the text (J. Khaliqi-Mutlaq, "Mu'arrifi .. . Shah-
nama" (1), IN, vol. 3:3, 1364/1985, pp, 386-387; Ibid., (2), IN, vol. 4:1, pp.
30-31; Ibid., (3), IN, vol. 4:2, pp. 231, 248).
11
Faris al-Shidyaq and the Transition from
Scribal to Print Culture in the Middle East
Geoffrey Roper
It is well known that printing came late to the Amb and Muslim Middle East;
it is also well known that when it did become established, it had significant
effects on the intellectual and social development of the area. These have become
truisms, because historians have routinely acknowledged and paid lip-service
to their importance. However, what they have not done, by and large, is to
analyze, or even to spell out, the progress and consequences of this major
transformation of social communication, and the changes in human relationships
within Middle Eastern society which flowed from it. Such an undertaking,
indeed, has not been possible, even for those few historians who are conscious
of the need for it, because the materials for such a study have yet to be
assembled. Nevertheless, it is possible to draw attention here briefly to a few
general points about the nature of the transition from scribal culture to print
culture, before illustmting that transition in the career and writings of one leading
figure involved in it.
Although block-printing was practiced in the medieval Muslim Middle East,
long before in Europe, the technique does not seem to have developed there
beyond the printing of single-leaf amulets and talismans: it was apparently never
used for the production of books, which remained entirely in the hands of scribes
until the eighteenth century, and predominantly so until well into the nineteenth
century, despite the widespread adoption of printing elsewhere. This reflects
the maintenance of a monopoly of knowledge by a traditional elite group-the
'ulamii'-whose control over the scribal transmission and dissemination of texts
served to reinforce established patterns of authority in Muslim society. It has
been pointed out, moreover, that, especially towards the end of the scribal era,
"knowledge" often tended to be regarded as a mystical and secret entity, and
writers tended accordingly to prefer an obscure style of expression; this in turn
encouraged what has been called a "magic garden" mentality, promoting
esotericism at the expense of both lucidity and rationality.
1
209
210 Roper
Printing eventually served to break this monopoly by creating a new culture
based not only on a new means of transmitting texts, but also on a new approach
to selecting, writing, and presenting them, aimed at a new kind of reader. In
the process, it contributed to a demystification of language and literature, a
revival of the classical heritage, and a new self-awareness. These led in turn
both to a cultural revival (nah4ah) and to political movements of a nationalist
character. Although it started, among Muslims, as a means for modernizing
rulers to educate, communicate with, and influence a new elite of their own
creation, it eventually, as in early modern Europe, penetrated much further
into society and into the consciousness of significant sections of the population.
In doing so, it helped to redefine peoples' relations with the sacred, with power
and authority, and with the community.
2
Moreover, although the technology
of printing came to the Middle East from Europe, it was not, as some historians
have assumed, just a manifestation of, and vehicle for, Westernization: it had
its own direct effects, which operated both on the cognitive plane and on the
socioeconomic plane.
In the forefront of this process, which amounted to nothing less than the
modernization and renewal of the literary and intellectual culture of the Middle
East, were certain litterateurs-udabii'- who, as Carter Findley has pointed
out, came from the old literary scribal elite, but evolved into the vanguard of
the new culture.
3
It is on one of the most celebrated of these that I now wish
to focus, and to try to trace in him and through him the emergence of that new,
print-based culture and the transformations that it brought.
Faris al-Shidyaq, later Al)mad Faris Efendi, was very much a product of
the old scribal culture-not just in a passive sense, but as an active and
enthusiastic practitioner and connoisseur of it. Born in Lebanon in the first
decade of the nineteenth century into a Maronite family which had traditionally
provided clerks, scribes, and tutors for feudallords,
4
he grew up in a literary
household. His father had collected books on a variety of subjects, which the
young Faris avidly read, especially literary works and poetry.
5
These books
were, of course, all manuscripts: although Arabic printing had been introduced
into Lebanon in 1734,
6
and Arabic printed books had also been imported from
Europe since the 16th century,? they were restricted to Christian religious and
liturgical books, produced in quite small quantities for the use of the clergy:
literary and educational books were available only in handwritten copies.
Following the family tradition, Faris himself became at an early age a
professional copyist, and was employed, among other assignments, to copy the
registers and chronicles of the amir Haydar al-Shihabi in connection with the
compilation of the latter's composite history of Lebanon and neighboring
countries.
8
He also produced, for Christian patrons, numerous copies of other
works, in both Arabic and Syriac, some of which survived in ecclesiastical
and private collections in Lebanon.
9
Faris al-Shidyaq and the Transition from Scribal to Print Culture 211
al-Shidyaq from the outset strove for high technical and aesthetic standards
in his copying. In later years, he remarked, for instance, on the necessity of
using the correct implements for writing Arabic-reed pens, not quills;
10
he
also recalled that in his youth he had enthusiastically cultivated excellence in
handwriting (jUdat or tajwid al-khatt), and whenever he saw fme script, devoted
himself to imitating it.
11
During his stay in Egypt between 1828 and 1835, he
continued to copy books for his own use, and possibly for others (although
we cannot be certain of this). A copy of Zawzanfs commentary on the
Mu'allaqiit, for instance, made by him in Cairo in 1833, is extant,U and it bears
a note that it was still in his possession in 1855/56.
13
He also made notebooks
(kurriisah) of extracts of manuscript works that he thought would later be of
use to him, such as Damiri's zoological encyclopedia, J:layiit al-}Ja)Uwiin, which
he later used when translating an English natural history textbook for
publication.
14
Throughout his later life he continued to copy books, and
assembled such a large collection of manuscript volumes by this means that
he used to worry, so it is said, about what would happen to them after his death.
15
He also made careful copies-often more than one-of his own works, some
of which survive in this form.
16
As well as being a scribe, Faris was an avid reader and collector of
manuscripts. During his stay in Egypt, he seems to have immersed himself
in classical Arabic literature, most of which at that time was still unpublished,
and acquired some manuscripts thereP Later, when he went to Europe, he made
a point of visiting the great libraries of Paris, London, Cambridge, and Oxford,
and reading important works in their collections of Arabic manuscripts.
18
He
described in some detail his visit to the British Museum Library (now the British
Library) and mentioned some of the works of Arabic literature that he read
there-almost certainly, in some cases, for the first, and perhaps the only, time:
Ibn Qutaybah, al-Zamakhshari, Abu Tammam, and al-Mutanabbi.
19
He noted ruefully that he was not allowed to copy works in their entirety when
there, but only to make extracts or summaries.
20
During the last thirty years
of his life, when he was living in Istanbul, he frequented the manuscript
collections there also, and wrote articles in his newspaper, al-Jawii'ib,
enumerating the libraries and their contents, and complaining about the restricted
access and poor working conditions in them.
21
Evidence of his love of fine
calligraphy and illumination emerges from some of his descriptions of the
manuscripts which he had seen, such as the sumptuous copy of Flruzabadi's
al-Qiimus in the Kopriilii Library.
22
But al-Shidyaq's main concern when studying manuscripts, especially in
this latter period, was always to establish accurate texts that faithfully reflected
what the classical authors had written. To this end, he made detailed compari-
sons and evaluations of the manuscript copies he encountered,
23
and as he did
so, he became acutely aware of how some of these texts had become subject
212 Roper
to corruption (al-tal)rifwa-al-ta$1)if) in the process of copying, because of the
ignorance and negligence of scribes.
24
He noted that manuscript copies were
often defective,zs that is, lacking part or parts of the text; and he was furthermore
aware that much Arabic literature had been lost altogether through the
destruction of unique or rare manuscript texts.
26
Moreover, even many of those
texts that survived were scarce and hard to locate or obtain, as he had discovered,
for instance, when trying to find copies of the diwiins of the great classical
Arabic poets in Cairo when he was a young man.27
So al-Shidyiiq was well aw.1re that the revival of Arabic literature and culture
depended on bypassing the old scribal tradition, much as he revered it and was
a part of it, and finding a new means of transmitting and preserving both classical
texts and new writing. Fortunately, the development of his own life and work
had shown him that just such a means was now available, that could and should
be widely adopted in the service of Arabic learning and letters. From the time
that he left his native land in 1826, his career was inextricably bound up with,
and dependent on, the use of the printing press. At the beginning of that career,
it was still a suspect novelty in the Arab and Muslim Middle East; by the time
of his death sixty years later, it had become the normal and accepted method
of producing and transmitting Arabic texts.
The first press with which al-Shidyiiq was involved was that run by the
English Church Missionary Society (CMS) in Malta. He spent about eighteen
months there in 1827-28, helping to prepare Christian religious texts-
commentaries on the parables of Jesus and a new metrical translation of some
of the Psalms
28
- for printing and distribution mainly in Lebanon and Egypt.
However, ill health caused him to leave Malta for Egypt, where he spent the
next seven years. During this time, he worked fur a while on the newspaper
al-Uilqii'i' al-Mi$riyah-the first Arabic newspaper to be published anywhere-
and was therefore one of the first Arabs, if not the very first, to practice the
craft of journalism.
29
While thus engaged, he no doubt became :fumiliar with
the operations of the state press of Mul)ammad 'Ali at BUliiq, where the
newspaper was produced. However, it seems that he soon became disillusioned
with Egyptian government service, mainly because of delays in payment of his
salary,3 and by 1832 he was again working for the missionaries in Cairo.
At the end of 1835, al-Shidyiiq went back to Malta, and over the next six
years again helped to prepare and edit translations of a number of Christian
religious books; but in addition to these, he also published at the CMS press
a series of secular didactic works on geography, natural history, and language.
Three of these were written or compiled by him, being his first published works;
another was carefully translated by him from English. He also prepared and
produced the editio princeps of an earlier Arabic grammar, the Bal)th al-matiilib
of Jibril Farl:tiit (Malta, 1836). This was the first of many manuscript works
which were to be published at his hands over the next fifty years.
al-Shidyaq's role at the Malta Arabic press in the 1830s and 1840s was
such as to make him fully conscious of all that was imulved in this new method
of book production and of its potentialities. Not only did he prepare copy for
the press, he also acted as a proof reader and corrector, becoming acutely aware
of the importance of vigilance and meticulousness in these tasks. At the end
of his own Arabic grammar and reader, al-Laftfft kull ma'na (arif, he refers
specifically to his own role in its printing and asks the reader's forgiveness
for any typographical errors remaining.
31
By that time he had already raised
the typographical standards of the Malta press to a much higher level than had
existed there previously. Not only Arabic, but also Ottoman Thrkish texts were
checked and proofread by him. Nor was his work confined to textual editing
and correction-he also had a hand in designing and preparing the punches
for a new Arabic typeface, in three sizes, which was brought into use in 1838,
and which has been admired for its beauty and excellence.3
2
The Arabic press in Malta was closed down in 1842, and for the next fifteen
years al-Shidyaq's work in the field of editing and publishing bore fruit not
in the Arab world, but in Europe. He translated the whole of the Bible into)
(_ Arabic and saw it through the press in England-a major undertaking which
must have made him fully acquainted with established printing and publishing
practices at a large-scale scholarly press, in this case William Watts in London.
33
He also had published in Paris in 1855 his own extensive autobiographical and
literary work, al-Siiq 'ala al-siiq, for which a special, new Arabic typeface
was prepared and cast
34
-again he corrected all the proofs himself.
35
He also
became interested again in journalism and newspaper publishing: a prospectus
for a new political journal under his editorship was issued in France in 1858.
36
In 1857, al-Shidyaq was invited to Thnis to apply his knowledge of
publishing and journalism to the foundation of a new state press and newspaper
there.
37
Before this came to fruition, however, certain intrigues at the TUnisian
court caused the task to be assigned to someone else.
38
But his brief stay in
Thnis was nevertheless of great importance to the development of his subsequent
career. For it was there that he embraced Islam, and by doing so qualified v
himself for a new and more influential role in the renewal of Arab and Muslim
culture in the second half of the nineteenth century.
In 1859 or 1860, al-Shidyaq went to Istanbul, where he lived for the rest
of his life. He seems to have been appointed in the first place as Chief Corrector
(Ra'is al-mu,ra]JJ)i}Jfn) at the Imperial Press (al-Ma(ba'ah al-Sul(iinfyah),
39
but
his first major task was to launch a new Arabic newspaper called al-Jawii'ib,
which started in 1861 and continued, with two short interruptions, until 1884.
It was this newspaper that brought al-Shidyaq his greatest fame, because it was
widely distributed, carrying his name, his writing, and his ideas all over the
Arab and Muslim worlds. But although al-Shidyaq had now achieved his long-
standing ambition to edit and publish an Arabic newspaper, journalism by no
214 Roper
means displaced book publishing in his career. In 1868, he published his own
large-scale treatise on Arabic etymology, Sirr a/-laya1 ft al-qa/b wa-a/-ibda/,
at the Imperial Press. Then, in 1870, he established theJawii'ib Press (Matba'at
al-Jawa'ib) with new equipment, and not only did this take over the printing
of the newspaper after which it was named, it also published a long series of
books, mostly in Arabic but also some in Thrkish. These have teen collected,
studied, and enumerated by the eminent al-Shidyaq scholar Mohammed Alwan
40
and it is not necessary to go over that ground here except to note his finding
that the number of publications totalled 75, and that they fell into essentially
four categories: classical Arabic literature; al-Shidyaq's own works; works by
other contemporary authors, mostly his friends, supporters, or patrons; and
miscellaneous semi-official Ottoman publications. By the time of al-Shidyaq's
death in 1887, he could truly be said to have been not just one of the greatest
Arabic writers of the age, but also one of its foremost editors and publishers.
ai-Shidyaq did not just passively accept and make use of the printing press
in the furtherance of his own career and reputation: he was also an active
protagonist and propagandist of the print revolution. "In truth," he wrote, "all
the crafts that have been invented in this world are inferior to the craft of printing.
To be sure, the ancients built pyramids, set up monuments, erected statues,
fortified strongholds, dug canals and water conduits, and paved military roads;
however, those crafts, compared with the craft of printing, are but one degree
above savagery. After printing became widespread, there was no longer any
likelihood of the disappearance of knowledge which had been disseminated and
made public, or the loss of books, as was the case when they were written with
the pen."
41
It was, perhaps, because he had been precipitated early in his career
into the print-oriented \IDrld of Malta and Europe that he did not share the
antagonism towards printing and the mass production of books that was felt
by many of his contemporaries among the educated Arab elite. The latter were
no doubt motivated by their instinctive awareness of the threat that it posed
to their monopoly of knowledge and authority. On the contrary ai-Shidyaq
recognized the undesirability of that restrictive monopoly: "Much of our
literature," he complained, "is possessed by a few individuals who do not think
it in their interest to give it a wider spread among the people."
42
Printing was
the way to break out of this situation. Not only would it help preserve literature
that would otherwise be lost, something to which he attached immense
importance, as the previously quoted passage indicates,
43
but it would also make
books much easier for everyone to obtain, read, and collect.
44
Printing estab-
lishments would even themselves become centers of culture, places for educated
people to make for when visiting a country or locality.
4
s
al-Shidyaq was aware that the Arabs and Muslims were backward in this
matter, because he had studied the history of printing in China and the West,
and devoted a substantial section of his book on Europe to it,
46
as well as articles
in al-Jawii'ib;
41
he also described a copy of the Gutenberg Bible of 1455, which
he saw in the British Museum, and other early European printed books.
48
But
what really impressed him was the sheer volume of book and newspaper
publishing in contemporary Europe: in several of his books and articles, he
treats the matter at length, giving detailed statistics.
49
This, he considered, was
an important cause of Europe's ascendancy; and the lack of printing an equally
important cause of ignorance and decline among the Arabs and Muslims.
50
What
were needed, he wrote, were presses "to print ... books useful for men, women,
and children, and for every single class of people, so that they know what their
rights and obligations are (mii lahum wa-mii 'alayhim min al-lp,tquq)."
51
He
was thus suggesting that the printed word oould bring about social and political,
as well as intellectual, emancipation and advancement.
I have sought to demonstrate that al-Shidyaq was both a major participant
in and a protagonist of the print revolution in the Middle East. It remains to
consider the effects that his activities, and the products of his endeavors, actually
had in bringing about the shift from scribal to print culture in the Arab and
Muslim Worlds. In discussing the equivalent shift in early modern Europe,
the historian Elizabeth Eisenstein has identified three fundamental changes,
or rather "clusters of changes," which printing brought to the processes of
communication and transmission by the written word: the much wider dissemi-
nation of texts in all fields; their standardization; and their preservation for
posterity. Each of these had fur-reaching effects, not only on intellectual, but
also on social and economic, development.
52
It may be useful, therefore, to
apply this oonceptual framework to the effects of the print revolution in the
nineteenth-century Middle East, and to al-Shidyaq's part in it.
One of al-Shidyaq's biographers has made the point that his role in editing
books for the press was really a continuation of his former trade as a copyist
of manuscripts; 5
3
this is true up to a point, but it ignores the quite different
effects which his new activities had. The Arabic tracts and textbooks which
he edited and published in Malta were distributed on a large scale throughout
the Middle East and were widely used in schools. al-Shidyaq enumerated some
of the earlier Malta books which he himself used when a teacher in Cairo,
54
and these missionary publications were also widely disseminated amongst the
Christian populations of Egypt, Lebanon, Palestine, Syria, and Iraq, as well
as finding their way into the hands of some Muslims and, in some cases, into
Muslim state schools.
55
The traditional kuttiibs, whether Muslim or Christian,
had not taught even the Arabic language, still less other subjects, in a systematic,
graded manner, and had therefore tended to produce "functional illiterates." 5
6
The use of these Malta textbooks, as well as locally produced ones which
followed their example, and some which al-Shidyaq later published in Istanbul
for the Ottoman state schools,
57
helped to extend basic literacy. Moreover, the
216 Roper
provision of instructional books to large numbers of individual pupils, which
only printing made possible, encouraged them, at the outset of their education,
to regard reading and studying from books as an individual and private activity,
and one that was potentially within the reach of all. It is at least possible that
some of the changes in perceived relationships between the individual and
society, which became apparent among some intellectuals in the Middle East
in the latter part of the nineteenth century, may have owed something to this
new factor in their earliest childhood intellectual experience.
al-Shidyaq also played a pioneering role in disseminating the means for
Arabs to learn European languages. In the scribal era, textbooks for this purpose
were to all intents and purposes nonexistent. But al-Shidyaq's first published
work was an English grammar for the use of Arabs,
5
8 which was distributed
along with other Malta books in the Middle East, and of which a second edition
was published at the Jawa'ib Press in Istanbul.
59
He also produced a book of
grammatical exercises and dialogues
60
and later, in Paris, a grammar of French
in Arabic.
61
Without such aids, the possibilities of Arab intellectuals of that
era becoming acquainted with Western knowledge and culture directly through
the medium of print would have been much more restricted than they were.
al-Shidyaq's activities as a journalist and newspaper publisher were, of
course, even more crucial in bringing the printed \\Ord to a large Arab and
Muslim readership. The role of newspapers and periodicals in creating a new
reading public and a new social and political awareness in the nineteenth-century
Middle East is, I think, generally appreciated, and this is not the place to
consider it in detail. But two points can be mentioned which perhaps are not
sufficiently recognized. The impact of journals like al-Jawii'ib went beyond
the literate classes, because the reading of them was likely in many situations
to have been a group activity. In coffee-houses and other places where people
gathered, the illiterate and poorly educated also imbibed the printed word
through the reading of extracts and passages out loud by their more literate
companions. This applied also to some printed books, especially works of
classical literature, such as the Maqiimiit of Hamadharn, printed at al-Shidyaq's
Jawa'ib Press in 1880 in an edition which was specifically intended to "please
the reader and the listener" (al-qiiri' wa-al-siimi').
62
al-Shidyaq also had a policy
of serializing some classical works in al-Jawii'ib before publishing them
separately, such as al-Amidi's al-Muwiizanah bayna Abi Tammiim wa-al-
Bu}Jturi.63 Even those that were not serialized were always heavily advertised
in the newspaper and distributed by its agents in Thnis,
64
Alexandria,
65
Beirut,
66
and elsewhere, as well as by post from Istanbul.
Nor were al-Shidyaq's activities as a disseminator confined to his own
publications: he also acted as an agent and distributor for contemporary Arabic
printed books from other publishers, including those in Tunisia and Lebanon.
67
al-Jawii'ib also carried many notices of newly published Arabic books from
a variety of sources, including especially the BuHiq Press in Egypt. This was
all in keeping with al-Shidyaq's mission to spread the benefits of the print
revolution as widely as possible (see figure 11.1).
The standardization of texts and of their physical presentation was another
important aspect of the print revolution in which al-Shidyaq was fully involved.
Unlike most of his predecessors and contemporaries who prepared editions
of classical Arabic works, he went to great trouble to establish sound texts by
comparing and collating as many manuscript copies as he could find and noting
their differences; and he encouraged others who edited texts for the Jawa'ib
Press to do likewise.
68
Only in this way could a worthwhile and authoritative
editio princeps be created. But he was well aware that compositors and editors,
too, could make errors, and caveats to this effect were included in several of
his books,
69
as well as, often, errata lists.7 The correction of such errors,
however, as well as additions and improvements to the texts themselves, could
be incorporated into new, revised editions of books-a characteristic feature
of the print era, in contrast to the progressive corruption of text in manuscript
copies. This applied, of course, equally to new works, such as al-Shidyaq's
own: five of his books were issued in revised editions under his supervision.7
1
The awareness that printing could enable standard, corrected, and authoritative
texts to become widely available for reference also made it particularly suitable
for the promulgation of laws and state regulations, and al-Shidyaq was involved
in this also: with Jawa'ib Press published a number of Ottoman legal codes
and enactments in both Arabic and Thrkish.n
The standardization of language itself was another of the effects of printing
enumerated by Eisenstein. In the case of Arabic, this was less marked than
in Europe, since strict classical norms applied to the written language, and
the literary development of the vernaculars was ruled out. But the publications
of al-Shidyaq's grammars, reading book, and textbooks in Malta did play a
part in improving the written Arabic used by Arab Christians, which by the
early nineteenth century had in many cases deteriorated into something akin
to Middle Arabic, or into what he scathingly called rakiikah (feebleness or
poverty of style).
73
He also introduced into his publications, especially his
translations, many newly coined words for new and alien objects and concepts,
"for which," as he pointed out, "no equivalents could be discovered in classical
Arabic ... and that," he went on, "is to provoke the Arabs into putting into
circulation new post-classical (nuwallad) expressions which will save them from
choking on foreign jargon and protect them from an inundation of it."
74
Some
of these neologisms found a permanent place in the language, and are still in
use.
75
It was of course the power of print to circulate and reinforce the new
usages that gave al-Shidyaq this seminal role in creating new lexical standards
and norms for the Arabic language.
It is appropriate to remark here also that not only new vocabulary, but
a whole new style of Arabic prose emerged at this time, and al-Shidyaq was
C
"

.....
,, .,_ " .- .,_
',::'ct;'.' 1-
i

. .:..\..UOi .f':, <'

..... *-.1
.. ,i 1'11
t

":,t...i)J\ ",d\11" r.J.-Jl.J,U. A
..;.o.$1-': .... 1
1'4.:.11 .,_
''"

Fig. 11.1. The back page of al-Shidyaq'a newspaper al-Jawa'ib, no. 1017, Istanbul, 19
Ramadan 1298125 August 1880. The right-hand column gives a price list of al-Jawa'ib
Press books available from the newspaper offices, starting with al-Shidyaq's own works,
including the original Paris edition of his al-Saq ala al-saq-"of alien appearance" ('ala
shakl gharib). On the left are other Arabic and Turkish books which can be supplied,
including some from "Syrian," that is Lebanese, presses, followed by a list of those
available from the Egyptian agent of al-Jawii'ib. (Cambridge University Library, NPR.
B. 411.)
one of the prime movers in this development. There is no doubt that he was
steeped in the old classical norms and usages, and he also showed himself to
be, in many of his writings, quite fond of obscurity and recondite verbiage.
But he nevertheless realized that the new patterns of readership created by the
print revolution necessitated a new, simpler, and more direct style, geared
primarily to the communication of knowledge and ideas rather than to preserving
the mystique of a literary elite. This was equally true when he was writing school
textbooks for the Malta press, and when he was deploying the new medium
of journalism later in Istanbul. To this print-based creativity of al-Shidyaq, and
some of his contemporaries, can perhaps be traced the origins of the modern
standard Arabic written language.
But if the advent of printing can be held partly responsible for new linguistic
and literary standards, the new ways of presenting and packaging texts, to ease
the task of the reader, are wholly due to it. In this development, too, al-Shidyaq
played an active role. On the one hand, with his background as a scribe and
calligrapher, he was keen to ensure that type styles reflected the best scribal
norms. As already mentioned, he accordingly helped to design a new typeface
for the Malta Arabic press in the 1830s; later, when he set up his own Jawa'ib
Press in Istanbul, he ensured that its types followed the established Ottoman
Arabic tradition, unlike the "alien form" (shakl gharib) of the typeface with
which his autobiography had previously been printed in Paris.7
6
On the other
hand, he made a determined, even if only partly successful, attempt to improve
and regularize other typographical and design features of the books for which
he was responsible: some of these features, as Eisenstein has demonstrated in
the case of European printed books, can be of crucial importance in determining
their impact on readers. The books produced at the early Thrkish and Egyptian
presses were usually modelled quite closely on traditional manuscript layouts
and styles of presentation. al-Shidyaq's books, however, both those from Malta
and those of the Jawa'ib Press, look different. For the most part he abandoned
the marginal commentaries and glosses with which earlier books were often
festooned. In some cases running heads were introduced, repeating the title
or number of the chapter or section at the top of each page as an aid to those
referring to the book.7
7
Nearly all al-Shidyaq's books have title pages, setting
out clearly and systematically not only the title itself, but also the name of the
author, the name of the press, the place and date of publication, and whether
it is a first or later edition. This was an important innovation of the print era,
to which al-Shidyaq became accustomed in Malta and later adopted at his press
in Istanbul, one of the first in the Middle East which consistently did this. This
practice, as Eisenstein has pointed out, engendered "new habits of placing and
dating," as well as helping the subsequent development of more precise
cataloging and enumerative bibliography.7
8
Another new feature of the print
era to be found in most of al-Shidyaq's publications is a table of contents, with
220 Roper
page numbers, likewise enabling the reader to make more systematic use of
the book.
Page layouts, under al-Shidyifs guidance, also set new standards, being
generally more spacious and easier on the eye than most ordinary manuscripts
or earlier printed books from the Middle East. Margins are reasonably wide,
and, as already mentioned, unencumbered by glosses or commentaries. The
spacing between words tends also to be more generous, leaving a better overall
ratio between black and white than on most pages of Bulaq or early Thrkish
printed books. These were features of the Malta Arabic books on which al-
Shidyaq worked early in his career, and they later appeared in the products
of his Istanbul press, making them easier to read and therefore more accessible
to a wider public. Some of them can be considered as forerunners of twentieth-
century Arabic book design?
9
Another feature of the modern Arabic printed book which differentiates
it markedly from its manuscript forebears is the use of punctuation. al-Shidyaq's
attempts in this field, though, were a failure. By the late 1830s, he had become
familiar with European books and literature, and had observed the usefulness
of punctuation marks in clarifying the structure and meaning of passages of
prose. In 1839 he published at Malta his primer and, reading book of literary
Arabic, al-Laftfft kull ma'nil rarff, and boldly decided to introduce Western
punctuation into it, using commas, dashes, colons, exclamation marks, question
marks, quotation marks, and full stops (see figure 11.2). He set them out in
his introduction, explained their use, and urged that they should be generally
adopted in Arabic, "since," he wrote, "that would save the perpetration of much
[error] on the paths of exegesis, and safeguard the reader in reading, and the
traverser of the pitfulls of delusion. If this is necessary," he went on, "in Frankish
languages, then it is even more necessary in Arabic, because of ... the ramifi-
cation of clauses (tajrt al-jumal) one upon another."
80
This remarkable proposal
was, however, far ahead of its time. Although all these punctuation marks appear
throughout the first edition of al-Laftf, they were-apart from the full stop-
very seldom used even in other Malta books for which al-Shidyaq was respon-
sible. In the second edition of al-Laftf, published in Istanbul at his Jawa'ib Press
in 1881, all the punctuation marks were omitted, as well as the relevant section
of the introduction from which I have quoted. Not until the twentieth century
was full punctuation widely adopted in Arabic.
The bindings of books, as well as their contents, were another field for
standardization. Whereas manuscripts were generally bound individually by
or for their owners, mass-produced printed books could have standard bindings
issued by their publishers. Generally, these were printed wrappers or boards
(sometimes cloth-backed)-such were the standard bindings, for instance, of
al-Shidyaq's Malta books. His Jawa'ib Press in Istanbul continued this practice;
but it also issued many of its books in cloth or roan bindings, with titles
rn

o l.:.liJ.:>:-j.ll 'OJ)b.. 1.;)1!l; : J\.i
t..f'J:! u.1 ifx
J
..>....ill,..
_ _ o<UJI Cl \.. ..l...JI YJ ,<UJI
JW J>:::> .)b
,JW ,!,JW ,<UJI
o<UJI L.
I:J\.i . 1\ '\ ..:..,
w-> r::.?"' :r c.:: .
o..il ,).,.lw !"""=ir-J fr:-1 <WI

..f>.>fll

LS..).!\ ._u J.).J : Jl<; t) __,..!....ll

n
_ Wfi. ._jt....>-
. & l.:.lJ.) U'"

Wfil,..
C> j .)J;> U'"
Y" t,.. d _;;,I d \.,)"'WI (j?-1

f-W J JA
?AI r..,i =J.:8Y ,J\.i ?;Wl>
r L. ._r,J\.i

d '0.))\.J J
,Jt.ai_ I!.IJ.:, J:,..J ,
, l....w;j 4.i:J J li_;...j , j.-; I j.:j
,.._t Jl;;; J L;
''I . ''I .,C' I
o?u .u ''.5
: l,..y. .;J J.c)
Fig. 11.2. Two pages from al-Shidyaq's al-Laftfft kull ma'na (arif, Malta, 1839, showing
his use of punctuation marks: dash, comma, question mark, and colon. The typeface,
which has been admired for its beauty, was specially cut and cast in Malta, almost
certainly to his designs. The only incongruous feature is the use of Western numerals
for the page signature. (Cambridge University Library, Moh.315.d.l8 seL)
embossed in gilt on the front and the insignia of the press on the back.
81
They
thus became homogenized. mass-produced consumer durables, complete with
trade marks-harbingers of a new uniform commodity culture.
All these elements of standardization which printing brought to the form
and content of books contributed to what Eisenstein has called a new "esprit
de systeme" and served to "reorder the thought of readers."
82
It seems reason-
able, therefore, to claim that pioneering print-oriented authors and publishers
like al-Shidyaq contributed significantly in this way to the emergence of new
modes of thought and patterns of consciousness in the modern Middle East.
Along with increased dissemination and standardization of tests, the third
"cluster of changes" associated with the print revolution, according to Eisenstein,
was their preservation. al-Shidyq's views on the loss and corruption of Arabic
222 Roper
texts in the scribal era, and the potential role of printing in preserving them,
have already been indicated. His book-publishing activity at his press in Istanbul
was largely dedicated to putting into practice what he had earlier advocated.
He published there a long series of carefully edited texts of classical Arabic
literature, including especially works of poetry and adab. As well as editing
some of them himself, he also created a circle or "school" of editors whom
he encouraged to apply similar standards: among those whose names are known
are Yiisuf al-Nabhiini and Rasiil al-Najjiir1.
83
The new works that he published-
both his own and those of other writers, such as Khayr al-Di:n al-Tiinisi and
Yiisuf al-Asir-were also thereby assured of a permanent place in the literature:
their works might be forgotten or neglected for a while, but they would never
perish completely like many of their predecessors of the manuscript era. This
meant a new and more confident response to the challenge of creative writing;
for whereas previously much literary effort had gone into the task of retrieving,
encapsulating, summarizing, and commenting upon past knowledge and past
literary achievement, now, in the print era, this could all, in a sense, be taken
for granted. New ideas and original thoughts and expression could claim the
full energies of writers, who were now secure in the knowledge that, once
published, they too, would be safe for posterity. What this eventually brought
about was nothing less than a major reorientation of literature and know ledge-
instead of always looking backwards, it could now look forward to new horizons.
This in turn meant a new role for the author, and a new sense of self-
awareness and autonomy for writers. al-Shidyiiq himself provides a good
example of the new role model. Throughout his published works can be sensed
a vibrant individualism, even egotism-much of his writing is indeed directly
about himself.
84
He also assumes in many places a direct relationship with his
readers, addressing them and even suggesting that he is confiding secrets to
them.
85
This has been recognized in several studies of European literary history
as a feature of the new role of writers in the print era: instead of transmitting
texts to present and future audiences or imagined assemblies of fellow scholars,
the writer was addressing a large number of persons "who were not gathered
together in one place but were scattered in separate dwellings and who, as
solitary individuals with divergent interests, were more receptive to intimate
interchanges than to broad-gauged rhetorical effects."
86
Hence, authors emerged
who aimed to suggest an intimate relationship with their many unknown readers,
while in the process developing their own cult of self: Montaigne is the example
often cited in the case ofthe European Renaissance
87
-in the Arab renaissance
(nah4ah) ofthe nineteenth century, al-Shidyiiq can perhaps be seen as a similar
phenomenon. This new individualism of the print era also found a manifestation
in the conduct of protracted and often vituperative literary disputes between
al-Shidyiiq and contemporary authors such as Ibrahim al-Yiiziji and Rizqalliih
I:Iassiin.
88
While such contentions were by no means unknown in literary circles
in earlier periods of Arabic literature, the possibilities of print gave them a
new potency and currency, encouraging them to be transmitted rapidly across
long distances (l:lassiin lived and published in London, al-Yazijl in Beirut, while
exchanging literary squibs with al-Shidyaq in Istanbul), and bringing them
immediately before a wide readership.
But the new authorial assertiveness of al-Shidyaq owed most of all to the
fact that printing enabled him to earn his living from writing and publishing.
Unlike most of his scribal predecessors, he was not a priest nor an imam nor
a legal scholar nor a courtier nor, except for a brief period, a teacher. He was
a professional author and editor-an almost completely new phenomenon in
the Middle East and the Muslim world. At times, he wrote, translated, and
edited for a salary, as in Malta and Egypt and during part of his stay in England;
at other times, he wrote speculatively, aiming to sell the printed editions of
his works, such as his travelogues, autobiography, and grammars of French
and Arabic. In Istanbul, he became an entrepreneurial author-publisher and
newspaper editor.
al-Shidyaq's independence, however, was not so absolute that he could
dispense entirely with patronage. In the Arab and Muslim worlds, as elsewhere,
there had always been, among the rich and powerful, those who had attracted
and rewarded writers, especially if the writers provided them with pleasing
entertainment or gratified their vanity. al-Shidyaq occasionally played this
traditional role, especially when seeking preferment or sponsorship: he wrote
a number of odes in praise of the Bey of Tunis and other Tunisian notables,
for instance, some of which were printed.
89
But the power of the press offered
scope for a new kind of patronage: it could provide literature and information
not just to gratify a ruler, but to be disseminated on his behalf, to promote
his wider aims and interests-in other words, propaganda. al-Shidyaq became
aware of this at an early stage in his career, when he worked for the official
Egyptian gazette, al-Waqa'i' which promoted the policies of the
Egyptian ruler Mul:lammad 'AU, and which he later sarcastically dubbed a
mamda}J, or praise-factory.
90
When he had his own newspaper in Istanbul, he
was under the patronage of the Ottoman Sultan and generally supported his
interests, particularly his pan-Islamic pretensions; but he also received, for much
of that time, subventions from the Bey of Tunis, the Khedive of Egypt, and
the Nawab of Bhopal.
91
Sometimes, of course, these interests came into conflict,
and on two occasions this led to the temporary closure of the newspaper on
the Sultan's orders.
92
Not only the paper, but some of the Jawa'ib Press books,
also, were designed, and subsidized, to support these interests, including books
written by the reformist Tunisian chief minister Khayr al-Din and the Nawab
of Bhopal, and semi-official pro-Ottoman publications, such as the lavish album
of portraits of the sultans edited by al-Shidyaq's son, Salim Faris.
93
al-Shidyaq was generally able to balance these sources of patronage in such
a way as to preserve a fuir degree of independence for himself, and this was
224 Roper
all the easier because the power of print, coupled with his unprecedented and
unique skills in using it, made him indispensable to his patrons to an extent
that court writers of the scribal era never were.
In conclusion, we can perhaps reiterate that al-Shidyaq personified, both
in his career and in his attitudes, the dawn of a new cultural era for the Arab
and Muslim worlds, in which the communications revolution caused by the
printing press brought radical changes in the intellectual, political, and social
life of the area. No historical account of the Middle East in the nineteenth and
twentieth centuries can be adequate unless it takes into account the causes,
stages, and consequences of these changes. But for this to be possible, much
more must be known about the history of the presses, and the nature of what
they produced, than is the case at present. The printing history and historical
bibliography of the Middle East has been a shamefully neglected subject, both
in comparison with equivalent studies in relation to early modern Europe, and
in comparison with the study of Islamic manuscripts. The profile of the subject
therefore needs to be raised, and historians, bibliographers, and librarians alike
must work to rectify what remains a serious defect in our understanding of
a vital aspect of the history of Muslim and Middle Eastern civilization.
NOTES
1. C.V. Findley, "Knowledge and Education in the Modern Middle East:
A Comparative View," in The Modern Economic History of the Middle East
in Its World Context, ed. G. Sabagh (Georgio Levi Della Vida Conferences,
10) (Cambridge, 1989), p. 132.
2. Cf. R. Chartier, "General Introduction: Print Culture," in The Culture
of Print: Power and the Uses of Print in Early Modern Europe, ed. R. Chartier,
trans. L.G. Cochrane (Cambridge; Oxford, 1989), p. 1.
3. Findley, op. cit., p. 132.
4. K.S. Salibi, "The Traditional Historiography of the Maronites," in
Historians of the Middle East, ed. B. Lewis and P.M. Holt (London, 1962),
p. 223.
5. Faris al-Shidyaq, al-Siiq 'alii al-siiq ft-mii hilwa al-fiiriyiiq (Paris, 1855),
p. 22.
6. Wahid Gdoura, I.e debut de l'imprimerie arabe a Istanbul et en Syrie:
Evolution de l'environnement culture! (1706-I787) (Tunis, 1985), passim.
226 Roper
7. G. Roper, "The Export of Arabic Books from Europe to the Middle
East in the 18th Century," in BRISMES: Proceedings of the I989 International
Conference on Europe and the Middle East (Durham; Oxford, 1989), pp.
233-66.
8. al-Shidyaq, al-Siiq, p. 34; A.H. Hourani, "Historians of Lebanon," in
Historians of the Middle East, ed. B. Lewis and P.M. Holt (London, 1962),
pp. 230-32.
9. Filib dl Tarrazr, rna kim, 3 vols. (Beirut, 1948), 2:192-93;
Mul:lammad Abd al-Gharu l:lasan, Ahmad Faris al-Shidyaq (Cairo, 1966), p. 33.
10. [G.P. Badger and Faris al-Shidyaq], Kitilb al-mu}Jawarah al-unsiyah
ft al-lughatayn al-Inkiliziyah wa-al-'Arabiyah (Malta, 1840), p. 134.
11. al-Shidyaq, al-Siiq, p.34; idem, Muqaddimat diwan Ahmad Faris Efendi
(Istanbul, n.d.), p. 2.
12. J. Macdonald, University of Leeds, Department of Semitic Languages
& Literatures [now Department of Modern Arabic Studies], Catalogue of
Oriental Manuscripts, ll/: Arabic Mss 101-150 (Leeds, [1959]), p. 28, no. 128.
13. Top of first page, before the Bismillah.
14. [W.F. Mavor], Shar}J (abil'i' al-}Jayawan, trans. Faris al-Shidyaq
(Malta, 1841), pp. 3-4.
15. l:lasan, op. cit., p. 34.
16. M.B. Alwan, "AI:tmad Faris ash-Shidyaq and the West," Ph.D.
dissertation, University of Indiana, 1970, pp. 28-29, no. 85, and pp. 226-27,
nos. 13-16; 'lmad al-Sull:l, A}Jmad Faris al-Shidyiiq: atharuhu 2nd
ed. (Beirut, 1987), pp. 251-52; A.J. Arberry, "Fresh Light on Ahmad Faris
al-Shidyaq," Islamic Culture 26/1 (1952), pp. 156-64; A. Gacek, Catalogue
of the Arabic Manuscripts in the Librnry of the School of Oriental and African
Studies, University of London (London, 1981), p. 183, no. 303.
17. al-Shidyaq, Muqaddimah, p. 4.
18. Ai:lmad Faris al-Shidyaq, Kitilb al-ri}Jlah al-mawsumah bi-al-wasi(ah
ila ma'rifat Milli(il wa-kashf al-mukhabba' 'an .fimun Awrubba (Tunis, 1238/
1867), pp. 128, 338; Ibrahim Abu-Lughod, The Arab Rediscovery of Europe:
A Study in Cultural Encounters (Princeton, 1963), p. 121; Alwan, A/Jmad Faris,
pp. 52, 59, 79.
19. al-Shidyaq, al-Ri}Jlah, p. 338.
20. Ibid., p. 337.
21. Al)mad Faris al-Shidyaq, Kanz al-raghii'ib ft rrutntakhabiit al-jawii'ib,
7 vols. (Istanbul, 1288-99/1871-81), 1:154-55, 5:184-85; al-Sulh, op. cit., pp.
130, and 241, no. 1.
22. Ai)mad Faris al-Shidyaq, al-Jiisils 'ala al-qiimils (Istanbul, 1299/1881),
pp. 93-94.
23. al-Sull), op. cit., p. 132.
24. al-Shidyaq, Muqaddim11h, pp. 4, 16-17; al-Suli), op. cit., p. 241, no. 4.
25. al-Shidyaq, Muqaddim11h, p. 4.
26. Badger and al-Shidyiiq, al-Mu}Jiiwarah, p. 103; ai-Shidyaq, al-Ri}Jlah,
p. 382; al-Sull), op. cit., p. 130.
27. al-Shidyiiq, Muqaddimah, p. 4.
28. Details of these and other activities of al-Shidyiiq in Malta and Egypt
are drawn from the archives of the Church Missionary Society now kept at
the University of Birmingham.
29. al-Suli), op. cit., p. 34.
30. al-Shidyaq, al-Siiq, p. 337.
31. Faris al-Shidyaq, al-wftfft kull ma'nil tanf(Malta, 1839), pp. 298-99.
32. Abii al-Futiii) Ra<;lwlin, Tiirikh Matba'at Bulaq (Cairo, 1953), p. 25,
"huwa ghiiyahft jamiil al-khaf( wa-jftdat al-tab'," referring to the 1840 edition
of Kitiib al-mri', aw, amthiil Rabbina Yasu' a/-Masi}J wa-tafsiruhii, which was
set in these types.
33. a/-Kutub al-Muqaddasah (London, 1857).
34. al-Shidyiiq, a/-Ri}Jlah, pp. 306, 309; al-Sull), op. cit., p. 73.
228 Roper
35. al-Shidyaq, al-Ri}Jlah, p. 309.
36. f film, Marseilles (1858). Cf. Bibliotheque National e. Catalogue gimeml
des livres imprimes de La Bibliotheque Nationale (Paris, 1912), 49: col. 930.
37. See A. Ameuney's (Antiiniyus al-Amyfini) preface to Faris al-Shidyaq's
(London, 1857), p. (2).
38. al-Sull), op. cit., pp. 77-83.
39. al-Shidyaq, al-Ril}lah, p. 6.
40. Mohammed B. Alwan, "The History and Publications of al-Jawa'ib
Press," MEU Notes 11 (1977), pp. 4-7. Unfortunately, the detailed bibliography
of the Press's publications, referred to in this article, does not seem to have
been published.
42. Badger and al-Shidyaq, al-Mul}iiwarah, p. 103.
43. See also al-Jawii'ib 614, quoted in al-Sull), op. cit., p. 130.
44. Badger and al-Shidyaq, al-Mu}Jiiwarah, pp. 132-133.9.
46. al-Shidyaq, al-Ri}Jlah, pp. 375-82.
47. al-Shidyaq, Kanz, 1:157-60.
49. Badger and al-Shidyaq, al-MuiJiiwarah, pp. 99, 102, 132; al-Shidyaq,
al-Ril}lah, pp. 337-78; idem, Kanz, 1:157-60.
50. al-Shidyaq, Kanz, 1:161.
52. E.L. Eisenstein, 1he Printing Press as an Agent of Change:
Communications and Cultural Transformations in Early Modem Europe
(Cambridge, 1979), passim.
Faris ai-Shidyaq and the Transition from Scribal to Print Culture 229
53. Mul)ammad Al,unad Khalaf Allah, Alpnad Faris al-Shidyiiq wa-iirii'uhu
al-lughawiyah wa-al-adabiyah (Cairo, 1955), p. 84.
54. "Fares Eshediak's remarks concerning the children in the School at
Cairo, of the year 1932," CMS Archives: CM/073/61.
55. Cf. numerous reports in the CMS Archives, and in Missionary Register,
1826-53.
56. Findley, op. cit., p. 133.
57. al-Sull), op. cit., pp. 132, and 241, no. 7.
58. Faris al-Shidyaq, al-Biikurah al-shqhiyah ft na}Jw al-lughah al-
InkilizJyah (Malta, 1836).
59. M. Orhan Durusoy, Istanbul Belediye Kutuphanesi alfabetik katalog,
II: Belediye ve M. Cevdet kitaplar, Arapc;a ve Farsc;a basma eserler (Istanbul,
1954), p. 14, no. 2073.
60. Badger and al-Shidyaq, Kitiib al-mu}Jiiwarah al-unsiyah (Malta, 1840).
61. Fares Echckidiak and G. Dugat, Sanad al-riiwf ft al-!jarf al-Faransiiwi
(Paris, 1854).
62. Badi:' al-Zaman al-Hamadhani, Maqiimiit (Istanbul, 1298/1880), p. 100,
colophon.
63. Istanbul, 1287/1870. Cf. Alwan, "History," p. 5
64. See, for example, al-Jawii'ib 872 (1.7.1877), p. 4, col. 2.
65. See, for example, ibid. 932 (11.7.1878), p. 4, col. 3.
66. See, for example, ibid. 1009 (10.6.1880), p. 4, col. 2.
67. See price list in al-Jawii'ib 1017 (25.8.1880), p. 8, col. 2. Cf. Alwan,
"History," p. 6.
68. See, for instance, Hamadhani, op. cit., p. 100; idem, Rasii'il (Istanbul,
U98/[1880]), p. 238; Abii Mul)amrnad al-Qasim ibn 'Ali al-Hariri, Kitiib durrat
al-ghawwii!ift awhiim al-khawii!i!i (Istanbul, 1299/1881), p. 257, where Ms copies
are identified and differences mentioned. Cf. al-Sull), op. cit., p. 132.
230 Roper
69. E.g., al-Laftf, p. 299; al-Siiq, p. vii.
70. E.g., Farhat, op. cit. (the list is not present in all copies); al-Shidyiiq,
al-Ri}Jlah, pp. 387-88; Mikhii'Il 'Abd al-Sayyid Sulwiin al-shiiji ft
al-radd 'ala Ibrahim al-Yiiziji (Istanbul, 1289/1872), after p. 110.
71. al-Bak.Urah (Malta, 1836; Istanbul, 1881); al-Laftf(Malta, 1839; Istanbul,
1881); Kitiib al-'iimmah (Book of Common Prayer) (Malta, 1840;
London, 1850); al-Ri}Jlah (Thnis, 1867; Istanbul, 1881); Ghunyat al-tiilib wa-
munyat al-riighib (Istanbul, 1872/1888).
72. Cf. lists and announcements in al-Jawii'ib.
73. al-Shidyiiq, al-Siiq, book 2, ch. 3.
74. Badger and al-Shidyiiq, al-Mu}Jiiwarah, pp. 3-4.
75. al-Shihiib1, al-Musta/a}Jiit al-' ilmiyah ji al-lughah al-'Arabi yah,
2nd ed. (Damascus, 1965), p. 50; I:Iasan, op. cit., p. 144; Alwan, "AI:tmad
Faris," 210-11.
76. List of publications available inside front wrapper of Abu Mul:lammad
Ja'far al-Sarriij's Kitiib al-'ushshiiq (Istanbul, 1301/1883).
77. E.g., al-Shidyaq, al-Jiisus.
78. Eisenstein, op. cit., p. 106.
79. E.g., Hamadhiin1, Rasii'il, 1880.
80. al-Shidyiiq, al-Laftf, pp. 4-5.
81. Alwan, "History," p. 7.
83. al-Sull:l, op. cit., p. 131.
84. J.A. Haywood, Modern Arabic Literature, 1800-1970 (London, 1971),
p. 53.
85. E.g., in al-Siiq, pp. 75, 230, etc.
87. Cf. ibid., and references there cited.
88. Alwan, "AI)mad Faris," pp. 64-65.
89. Faris al-Shidyaq, Qa$Idah yumdalj fihii Ahmad Biishii Wiili Mamlakat
Tunis (Paris,1851); idem, Poems/QQ$ii'id.
90. al-Shidyaq, al-Siiq, p. 255. Cf. Alwan, "AQffiad Faris," p. 41.
91. Alwan, "AI)mad Faris," pp. 64-65.
92. G.P. Badger, "Arabic Journalism," The Academy 20/497 (1881), p. 366;
idem, "The Press of al-Jawiiib," ibid. 20/503 (1881), p. 473; A! wan, "History,"
p. 5.
93. Abda' mii kiin fi $UWar Salii(In AI 'Uthmiin/Album des souverains
ottomans, ed. Sallm Faris (Istanbul, [1885?]).
12
The Book in the Modern Arab World:
The Cases of Lebanon and Egypt
George N. Atiyeh
The book is not only a vehicle of communication, it is first and foremost the
outstanding expression and reflection of a culture. The role and l")OSition of the
book in a society is bound to the nature, historical circumstances, and
psychological configurations of that society. In fuct, there is no single pattern
that applies to all societies outside the common elements that characterize the
human race as a whole, and books are no exception. When one considers the
role and position of the book in the Arab \mrld, one needs to take into account
the above factors, and bear in mind the basic differences that exist between
Western and Arab circumstances and the different forces that have gone into
play in the Arab world during the modem and contemporary periods. These
forces, different in strength and orientation, while bringing the West closer
to the Arab world in certain respects, have been unable to eliminate the basic
differences between the two. I do not agree with the racist slogan of Kipling
that West is West and East is East and the twain will never meet; I believe that
there is a continuous and fundamental attraction between the two, regardless
of their differences. The story of the book in the Arab world is an expression
of this attraction.
In the Arab \mrld, the art of printing, publishing, and distribution of books
on a large scale among all classes and among young and old approached the
European level and acquired some semblance of maturity almost four centuries
after Gutenberg's invention. Part of the gap created by time and technology
has been filled in some Arab countries, yet there is still a long way to go to
bridge the gap completely. Unfortunately many of those, who deal with the book
have not always been able to keep what was good in the manuscript era, in
terms of scholarship, and take full advantage of what is good in the printing age.
Historically speaking, the Arabic printed book appeared first in Europe,
in Italy.
1
Other European countries soon followed suit, such as Holland, France,
England, and Germany. The Arabic printed book did not see the light of day
233
234 Atiyeh
in the Arab world until 1706. With this in mind, I will try to survey the
development of book production and dissemination, and to examine the role
played by books in the renaissance of the Arab \\Urld, singling out some
outstanding examples that were signs of or landmarks in the generation of new
trends or cultural orientations.
The Arab world covers four great geographic regions, North Africa and
the Nile Valley on the African continent, and the Arabian peninsula and the
Fertile Crescent in Western Asia. This being a large area to cover in a short
essay, I will limit myself to surveying the two countries that were and remain
pioneers in book production, namely, Lebanon and Egypt. Although in the
recent past and at present other Arab countries have been playing an increasingly
important role, the roles of Lebanon and Egypt were and remain seminal as
far as printed books are concerned.
Intellectually, the modern era in the Arab \\Urld experienced, in its early
stages, the rise of a number of religious, cultural, and political movements
directed at the regeneration of Islam, and also aiming at social and political
reforms. Some were fundamentalist, although not radical, in approach, such
as the Wahhabi movement in the Arabian Peninsula, and the Senusiyah in Libya.
Others were less fundamentalist but still religiously inspired, such as the
reformist movement of Khayr al-Din in Thnis, and the Salafiyah in Morocco.
The common denominator among these movements was regeneration or reform,
yet the movements took different forms, approaches, speeds, and goals. In
Lebanon and Egypt, contact with the West brought with it a variety of
movements, a search for new identities, nationalism, rationalism, and
secularism, which grew up side by side with religious and conservative
traditionalism.
Lebanon and Egypt had something in common that provided them with
certain advantages over other Arab countries. Both had continuous early contact
with the West, and during Ottoman rule they shared a certain freedom due to
the absence or relaxation of Ottoman control. The Ottoman colonial power,
which began in 1516-more or less at the same time as the first Arabic book
was printed in Fano, Italy, in 1514-was weakened when Mui).ammad 'All
(1805-49) assumed power in Egypt in 1805, and Mount Lebanon assumed certain
autonomy under Bashrr II (1789-1840). Lebanese autonomy grew under the
(1864-1914), and provided the Lebanese with more freedom to
run their own affairs.
Variation in the degree of control from province to province in the Ottoman
Empire and the extent of contact with the West favored some areas above others
in providing an environment favorable to cultural growth and the development
of particular modernizing situations. Lebanon and Egypt were thus favored.
Among the elements that went into the making of modernity were the influence
of Western education on literary, political, and social life; the liberation of man's
The Book in the Modern Arab World 235
mind to pursue the truth on his own advocated by a number of progressive
intellectuals; and a new world outlook. The role of the book in this development
was crucial. In fuct, the book helped loosen the strangle-hold of the 'ulamii',
the religious learned men, over education. In most of the Ottoman Empire,
including the Arab world, the 'ulamii' opposed the introduction of printing.
It was only in 1727 that the use of the printing press for printing in Arabic
script was permitted, and that was only for the production of non-religious
materials. Belief in Islam's superiority over other religions, because the Koran
is God's eternal \\Urd, and veneration of the Arabic language as the medium
for revealing the \\Urd of God, made the 'ulamii', the Sultan, and others oppose
the use of a metal object, coming from Christendom, to reproduce the honored
language of revelation. There were certainly other reasons for this opposition,
but those listed above were the weightiest ones. Here one wonders if the absence
of printing was not an important element in the late arrival of modernism and
modern technology to the Empire. Most of the Empire was rather slower in
the assimilation and circulation of the new learning, leaving the Arab world
far behind the West in terms of progress. Lebanon and Egypt were the first
to realize this and to take advantage of the printing press.
Lebanese commercial and educational relations with the West began in
the late sixteenth century, yet the printing of books, first introduced by the
Christians of Lebanon and Syria, took until the nineteenth century to achieve
significant consequences, inasmuch as most of what was printed early on were
religious texts meant to teach, mainly to strengthen and defend the faith. One
can easily state that the printing of books in that early period had little effect
on the modernization process or on raising the level of culture on a large scale.
The seeds of progress, however, were planted.
In an era when the manuscript was the main carrier of information and
ideas, one needed to be wealthy in order to afford books. The shop of the warraq
(a man who made a profession of transcribing books) became rare, and those
few restless spirits who seek knowledge in every age had only church or mosque
libraries to resort to. Knowledge had a mystique of its own, and people who
possessed it, or owned the tools to acquire it, did not let it go out except
sparingly, or often not at all. The dissemination of books on a wide scale did
not prevail until the later decades of the nineteenth century when printing with
movable type had reached most of the Arab countries and a large reading public
became attracted to books. Iraq, for example, had its first movable type press
only in 1860, Tunis in 1861, and Morocco in 1912.
2
It is obvious that there is a symbiotic relationship between books and
education. The spread of schools and education in the nineteenth century was
accompanied by the development of book production. Like education, book
production started hesitantly in the eighteenth century and then began working
its way steadily through stages of adaptation and translation, into a stage of
236 Atiyeh
more creativity, independence, variation, and much wider influence. Let us
look at this process by focusing on the two countries that are most representative
of this phenomenon. But before we do that, it should be noted that when we
talk about the private publishing that became common at the end of the nine-
teenth century, we don't mean publishing houses in the Western sense. Publishing
was done either by printing presses that were established primarily for printing
books, or by bookstores that were established exclusively for selling books then
added publishing and distribution to their activities. What they published, they
did, most of the time, at the expense of the author, with little or no control
over quality of scholarship or organization of the materials. The gradual move
from ma(ba'ah (press) and maktabah (bookstore) to diir (publishing house)
was to become fully fledged only in the twentieth century.
LEBANON AND THE BOOK
Printing in Arabic movable type was introduced into Lebanon
3
as early as 1610,
in the Maronite monastery of St. Anthony, located in Quzhayya, in North
Lebanon, not far from the famous cedars of Lebanon. Only one book was
produced in the short life of this pioneering endeamr. It was an Arabic language
Psalter, but in a Karshuni
4
typeface. Lebanon had to wait until 1734 for a second
and more lasting venture.
During the seventeenth century, the light of learning was kept dimly burning
mostly by a group of Maronite clergy who had received education in the
Maronite College in Rome. Having developed there a greater sense for scholar-
ship, they were able to inject a new vitality into their church and environment.
Outside the Maronite community, there were also glimmers of intellectual and
literary life, reflected in a weak but persistent manuscript tradition. Copying
of books and calligraphy were very much present among Muslim s c h o l ~ r s in
different parts of what is now Lebanon, such as in Tripoli and Jabal 'Amil,s
as well as in the monasteries, where bishops and patriarchs encouraged their
monks to copy books carefully and beautifully. Books were treated, by those
who could afford them, judiciously and with the full respect usually afforded
to precious things.
During the eighteenth century, education and books received a boost from
the establishment of new schools. The French Jesuits established a school in
'Ayn Tura (1728), and Maronite colleges were established in Zgharta (1735),
and 'Ayn Warqa (1789), which played a prominent role in advancing education
and scholarship. The growing need for books was satisfied by publishing them
in Europe. They were mostly books in liturgy, teaching language, some classics,
and anthologies of pious and ascetic works.
The first printing press that advanced the cause of book production in the
Arab world was the one set up by 'Abdallah Zakhir (1684-1748). Zakhir came
to Lebanon from Aleppo, Syria, after the split within the Antiochian Orthodox
Church (ca. 1724) and his becoming an advocate of Greek Catholicism. In
Aleppo, Zakhir had worked fur Patriarch Athanathios Dabbas (1685-1724), who
was the first in the Arab world to establish a press with Arabic movable type
(1706). In 1723, Zakhir, a skilled artisan and intellectual, established his own
press at the monastery of Yul)anna al-Sabigh, in the town of Shuwayr, in the
Kisrwan district. The setting up of this press met the needs of a growing number
of readers and of Maronite Christians who began replacing the Syriac language
used in their speech, liturgy, and writing with Arabic.
Because of its clear and beautiful type, Zakhir's press became a model
for the St. George Orthodox Press, established in Beirut in 1751. Zakhir himself
had cut two new typefaces, both more elegant and closer to the rounder and
lighter Naskhi style of writing. In fact, by adopting Arabic type and improving
the typeface, Zakhir broadened the horizons for the book in the Arab world.
The intellectual content of the books produced by these two pioneering presses
was mainly theological and devotional in nature. Neither the worldly literature
of Europe nor its political and artistic ideas seem to have had any great impact
on the subjects of the books. Almost all had either a religious or a linguistic
theme. Both the Shuwayr and St. George presses printed the Psalms, which
were used not only as a prayer book to be recited during liturgy, but also as
a textbook for learning Arabic. The fact that the Psalms were printed fifteen
times between 1610 and 1776 was a sign of the growing interest of the Christian
population of Lebanon in the Arabic language.
6
The dissemination of books was confined to religious groups, or among
rich and powerful individuals who were fond of books and were attracted by
the prestige that goes with amassing books in private libraries. Among the well
known libraries were the Arslan family library in 'Ubay, Jitjfs Safa's in Dayr
al-Qamar, and the libraries of Dayr al-Sharfeh, Dayr and Dayr
al-Balamand.7
The first half of the nineteenth century saw important political, social, and
educational developments take place. The Egyptian Ibrahim Pasha, who
occupied Syria between 1831 and 1840, started several schools. This gave a
powerful impulse to national education. American missionaries set up a press
in Beirut. Before moving to Beirut in 1834, the American Press was first
established in Malta, where Faris al-Shidyaq, a key figure in the renaissance
of Arabic books and literature, was instrumental in improving its typography
by designing an attractive new Arabic typeface and by introducing many of
the organizational aspects of modem book production.
The American Press of Beirut probably reached the widest audience of
any nineteenth-century press in the Arab world by publishing for writers who
were in the forefront of the surging literary revival, like al-Yazfjf (1800-71)
and Butrus al-Bustanf as well as for the professors at the Syrian Protestant
College (now the American University of Beirut).
238 Atiyeh
The American missionaries, particularly those of the American Board of
Commissioners fur Foreign Missions, were able to attract many Lebanese and
Syrians, converting them to Protestantism through their new, attractive, and
serious publications. This prompted the Jesuits to counter the evangelizing
activities of the Protestant missionaries by setting up their own press in 1848.
In a very short time, and using new equipment, the Jesuit press was able to
produce thirty books in 350 thousand copies.
8
A look at publishing around the middle of the century would show that
religious works explaining the principles of religion or dealing with spiritual
contemplation were the dominant category. al-lqtida' bi-al-Masil} (Imitation
of Christ), which was first printed by Zakhir in 1739, went into several printings.
There were also many works of polemics among Catholics, Protestants, and
Orthodox. Wortabet's Dalil ila al-Kitiib (The True Guide to the
Veracity of the Book), published in 1851, was one of them, as was al-Huda
al-amin ft daM arii' al-brutastanffyin (The Faithful Guide to Refuting the
Opinions of the Protestants), by the Jesuit fathers.
Language textbooks were numerous, the most important of which were
Bal}th ft 'ilm al-'arabiyah (A Study of What is Needed to Learn
the Arabic Language), which was first printed by the American Press in 1827,
then went into several editions, and Majma' al-bal}rayn (The Meeting of the
Two Seas), by al-YazljL In history, we find Tanniis al-Shidyaq's Akhbiir
al-a'yiin ft jabal Lubniin (The History of the Notables of Mount Lebanon)
(1859), and Tiirikh Saliitin Bimu 'Uthmiin (History of the Ottoman Sultans)
(1858), by Ibrahim al-Najjar. In geography, Cornelius van Dyke's al-Mir'at al-
wiicf,iyah ft al-kurah al-arqiyah (The Bright Mirror of the Terrestrial Globe)
(1852) was one of several works published by the American Press. Van Dyke
also published works in mathematics and geometry. It was at about this time
that translations of Western novels, such as Paul et Virginie, by Bernardin de
Saint-Pierre, began to appear.
This is only a sample of the books that were read or discussed in schools
or in the cultural circles and societies that began to form. The book was able
to improve the application of grammatical rules, set new directions for the
writing of history, cultivate the mind, and bring to the fure new genres in Arabic
literature.
The second half of the nineteenth century saw the extension and expansion
of education and the modernization of the Arabic language. The revival of the
national language inaugurated a literary renaissance which indirectly produced
a nationalist consciousness and a feeling of cultural distinction between what
was Arabic or Syrian and what was Ottoman. This was also reflected in the
rise of non-missionary, or national, schools, colleges, and associations that
invigorated cultural consciousness and national feeling.
With the progress of publishing, both of books and of serials, and a growing
desire for more knowledge, the intellectual contents of books became varied
and wide in scope. Gradually, the subjects turned away from the religiously
didactic and language-related, to books dealing with all fields of human
knowledge, inaugurating new trends in literature, politics, and the sciences.
As advances in book production and the diversification of subjects and levels
of scholarship took place, individually owned and run presses were sprouting
up all over the place. The outstanding impact, however, came from the estab-
lishment of institutions of higher education to which presses were attached or
related, and which undertook publishing and editorial programs. First came
the Syrian Protestant College (now the American University of Beirut) in 1866,
and then the Catholic St. Joseph University in 1874. Both competed for the
minds and souls of Christians and Muslims alike. The competition was not
necessarily negative in that it encouraged plurality and coexistence. Each wanted
to define itself by excelling in certain specific areas. Up to the end of the century,
the Catholic Press focused on the production of language and literary works,
grammars, dictionaries, and chrestomathies of current and classical works. Many
of these early publications are, until today, still widely used, for example, the
dictionary al-Munjid.
The American University, on the other hand, took a different direction,
that of the sciences. It produced books in medicine, natural sciences, astronomy,
and also dictionaries. The t\\U presses, however, were guided by strict moral
and religious norms, as well as by a high standard of scholarship. They did
not publish any work they thought to be of doubtful value. Furthermore,
whatever was published was carefully edited and checked for correctness and
presentation. In the two translations made of the Bible by the American and
Catholic Presses, there was the beliefthat the exact and correct translation from
Hebrew and Greek was not enough unless it were eloquently and clearly
expressed and presented. Translation of the Bible had a considerable impact
on Arab culture by making it available to the general reading public. Familiarity
with the Bible was instrumental in introducing a variety of motifs and notions
into modern Arabic literature.
Alongside these venerable presses, there mushroomed a number of presses
that were not restrained by the above norms nor by the promptings of the state
or religious institutions. Addressing themselves to a new kind of secular
readership, they turned to the translation and adaptation of texts for their literary
or entertainment value alone. Driven by a desire to sustain and profit from their
presses and publishing activities, the many periodicals and journals that began
to proliferate serialized original and translated novels, stories, and plays. These
were new genres of literature, unlike what had existed previously in popular
and classical Arabic works. They catered to the new crop of literate public,
mostly for entertainment.
9
Some were written with a didactic purpose behind
them, and most had weak plots and were full of interpolations.
The increase in the number of printing presses was due to several causes.
The reading public increased greatly with the spread of education; the
240 Atiyeh
government was, relatively speaking, tolerant, especially when it did not feel
politically threatened; and the growing number of newspapers and periodicals
encouraged reading. A lurking desire for greater and surer information led to
the publication of reference tools, such as encyclopedias, dictionaries, and
almanacs.
The awakening of the national consciousness translated itself into editions
of what were and still are called "heritage" books. This contributed not only
to the emergence of modern styles in prose and poetry, but also to energizing
the desire to learn more about the history of the country and its ancient cultures.
In 1881, Jurji Yanni (1856-1941) published a history of greater Syria (Tarikh
Siiriyii), which included Lebanon. Some learned people, such as Nawfal Elias
Nawful (1812-87), began to build their own libraries of classical and other Arabic
works and to publish on the history of religions and the sciences.t
0
This cultural awakening, one should emphasize, was not limited to the
Christian community, but was shared by their Muslim compatriots. The most
eminent expression of the awakening among the Muslims was the creation of
al-Maqiisid Benevolent Society, which sponsored the establishment of schools
in Beirut and the surrounding areas. Among the most distinguished authors
and scholars who played a role in its foundation and development was al-Shaykh
Yiisiif al-Asir (1815-89),
11
a judge who authored many books and articles on
jurisprudence and languages.
12
Because of his great linguistic expertise, he was
called upon to help in the translation of the Bible into Arabic. There was also
al-Shaykh lbriihlm al-AI)dab (1826-91), another judge and great linguist, and
'Abd al-Qiidir al-Qabbiini (1847-1935), the founder of the newspaper Thamarat
al-.funun, and a member of al-Funiin Society, which should be given credit for
buying a press and sponsoring the publication of many books.
By the end of the nineteenth century, Beirut and the rest of Lebanon had
more than twenty presses, in addition to the American and Catholic presses.
Their output reached several thousand titles and covered all branches of human
knowledge. Subject-wise, the end of the century saw the prevalence of human-
istic over religious topics; nonetheless, the diversity of subjects was surprising.
Topics included the principles of logic, philosophy, literature, natural sciences,
history, geography, religious dogma, spiritual readings, rituals, ethics, popular
literature, and the newly introduced genres of literature, the novel and the play.
Unlike other Arab countries, the growth of the book industry and the
development of printing were carried out by private individuals and institutions,
and not by the government. The Lebanese were able to create new fonts, and
improve the quality of books and printing in general. Yet books were not always
up to good standards in terms of indexing, annotations, structure of the contents,
and extent of typographical errors.
The dissemination of books outside the schools was not highly organized.
The most common way to advertise a new book, or books in general, was on
the book's own cover or last pageP In fact, books were sold in general stores,
or by the authors themselves. Financing was provided by the author, and at
times was subsidized by an association, such as the Muslim al-Funun Society
or by a friend of the author.l
4
To publish books, newspapers, and periodicals, one needed to get a permit
from the government, especially in Beirut. Because of its growing commercial
and educational importance, Beirut was the capital of an Ottoman province
(wiliiyah) in 1888. Until then it had been subordinate to the province of
Damascus. The first Ottoman printing law was decreed on 6 January 1857. It
was guided by t\\0 principles: licensing to publish and prior censorship of all
publications. In Lebanon, the effects of this law were slight at first. The presses
operated by the various Christian sects were virtually the only ones until the
1870s. The Ottoman authorities did not see a great need to censor their
publications because they did not present any challenge to the authorities. As
of 1871, the position of the maktubji
15
was given greater authority. The occupant
of this position was the editor of the official gazette and other government
publications, as well as being the censor. In 1885, when exercise of censorship
became stricter, books were required to be sent to Istanbul for approval before
publication. This prompted many authors to send their books to Cairo for
publication, instead. Many of the authors and intellectuals themselves began
to move to Egypt during 'Abd al-I;Iamid the Second's (1876-1908) rule, as it
became difficult to publish under the stricter governmental censorship. There
were other causes why Syrian and Lebanese authors, journalists, and political
activists moved to the Egyptian cities of Cairo and Alexandria.
16
Publishing
in the Arab world was greatly invigorated through many decades by this
convergence of Syrians and Egyptians. The interaction between Lebanese and
Syrian expatriates or immigrants and Egyptian intellectuals produced exciting
and trend-setting publications in which the overriding passions expressed by
the intellectuals and political activists was the challenge of modernity, that is,
the transformation of a "backward" Arab world into a modern one. As an
example, one can give the publications of Farah Anrun's Ibn Rushd -wa-falsafatuh
(Averroes and His Philosophy) (Alexandria,1903), in which he advocated
rationalism and secularism, and seemingly implied that Islam checked all
rational inquiry and all science. These were views that contrasted sharply with
the prevalent intellectual and religious atmosphere in Egypt. A controversy
between Anrun and one of the most enlightened Muslim scholars, Mui)ammad
'Abduh, ensued. 'Abduh, in his work al-Islam wa-al-Na!friiniyah ma'a a/-' ilm
wa-al-madaniyah (Islam and Christianity on Science and Civilization) (Cairo,
1902), defended Islam and maintained that Christianity was intolerant by nature
and that modern European civilization developed when Europe liberated itself
from Christianity. At the end of the century, the endeavors of both the Syrians
and the Egyptians converged together to give a great boost to book publishing.
242 Atiyeh
The Young Thrk revolution of 1908 broadened for a short period the horizon
of freedom. All kinds of associations and political clubs were formed and the
number of presses increased. With the growth of higher education at all levels
and greater communication with the West, Lebanon entered the first decade
of the twentieth century with ample freedom and a greater acceptance of
scientific values. But no sooner did Turkey enter the First World War than Mount
Lebanon lost its autonomy as well as its intellectual vitality. In 1920, under
the French occupation which followed the departure of the Thrks, Lebanon
regained a great deal of its publishing vitality. The American and Catholic
presses reequipped themselves with modern machines from Europe and the
United States. In 1927, the Catholic Press began the publication of the monu-
mental series Bibliotheca Arabica Scholasticorum, in addition to its many
religious and educational publications. Throughout the following decades, it
remained one of the most important publishers. It published books not only
for Lebanese authors, but also for scholars and institutions around the world,
including such prestigious institutions as L'Ecole des Langues Orientales, of
Paris, and the Warburg Institute, of London. Likewise, its publications were
disseminated all over the Arab world, Europe, and the Americas. The dictionary
of Father Ma'liif, al-Munjid, the grammar of Rashid al-Shartiinl, Mabiidi'
al-'Arabi yah, and the literary chrestomathy of Luis Cheikho, Majiini al-adab
were sent by the thousands to Cairo, the great marketplace for Arabic books.
The American Press alone published 462 books in 143,073 volumes in 1922,
these included Bibles in all sizes and formats, religious, educational, and literary
works, as well as series in archaeology, the natural sciences, and oriental studies.
Its books were disseminated worldwide}?
The 1940s saw the rise of individually owned and run publishing houses.
The age of diir, a publishing house that finances its own publications and
launches them into the marketplace, arrived in Lebanon. Several such houses
were established, among which Dar al-Makshiif published mostly in literature,
and Dar Sadir-RtQiinl diversified its publications into the fields oflaw, sociology,
history, and the classics. Dar al-'Ilm lil-Malayln (Knowledge for the Millions
Publishing House) was another publisher of works on varying topics. Its English-
Arabic dictionary, al-Mawrid, is one of the most widely circulated.
Not all the publishers were in Beirut; there were several outside that
belonged to religious congregations and played an important role in the history
of the book in Lebanon. They were, in a way, heirs to the scholarly traditions
of the Lebanese monasteries. The most important ones were al-Matba'ah al-
Biillslyah, Press, and the press of the Lebanese Mission.
The publishing of books and serials reached its peak after the Egyptian
Revolution of 1952. The nationalization of the book industry in Egypt, the
greater, sometimes chaotic, freedom in Lebanon, and the long tradidion in
printing turned Beirut into the Mecca of publishing in and for the Arab world.
In fact, the Arab, and not the Lebanese market, became the main factor in
the growth of the book industry. With the opening of the rich markets in the
Arabian peninsula, the focus of interest became set on that part of the world,
with its high demand fur textbooks, children's books, and religious works.
During the 1970s, the number of publishing houses increased tremendously.
Most specialized in social, political, or religious publications, and supported
the ideological position of one group or another. Beirut became the publishing
capital for dissident groups, which flocked to it from all over the Arab world.
Books on socialism, nationalism, and secularism were produced for the educated
class by these ideological publishers. A great many titles dealt with the Palestine
question and the Arab-Israeli conflict, as -well as with solutions to the economic
and social problems of the region. Literary works, whether creative, such as
poetry or fiction, or literary criticism, equaled all other classes in number.
Some poets, such as Niziir Qabbiinl, and novelists, such Ghadah al-Samman,
established publishing houses exclusively for publishing their own works, which
were popular all over the Arab world.
Scholarly publishing did not suffer greatly as a result of the changes in
interests and directions. New universities, such as the Lebanese, Arab, and
Holy Spirit (Kaslik) Universities, had successful publications, though they were
limited in scope.
Production of new dictionaries and reprinting of old ones became a major
industry, but also a source of confusion regarding new terminology in the
sciences. Authors who could not publish in their own countries, and those who
wanted good production and wide distribution, relied on Lebanese publishers.
The ease and convenience of publishing in Lebanon attracted even the most
eminent writers in the Arab world. They contracted with Lebanese publishers
to reprint and distribute their works. Najlb Awliid }Jiiratinii was
serialized in Egypt, but was printed in book form only in Lebanon, because
its publication in book form was prohibited in Egypt. It presented the Prophet
MuJ:!ammad and other prophets in a manner unacceptable to the 'ulama'. Even
during its civil Wclr of 1975-91, Lebanon remained a major center of publishing,
although several other Arab countries established their own publishing houses.
Lebanon WclS also among the first to mount book fairs, now a popular phenomenon
in all Arab countries. A sobering fact about Lebanon, however, is that it is
common to find there pirated books, and unscholarly editions and reprints of
the classics, often with the critical apparatus removed, along with the claim
that these are new editions.
THE BOOK IN EGYPT
The decisive events in the modern and contemporary of Egypt are the
French occupation in 1798; the rise of MuJ:!amrnad 'All (1805); the British
occupation and the 'Uriibl revolution (1882); the 1919 revolution and the struggle
244 Atiyeh
for independence (this is a period historians like to refer to as the liberal era);
the 1952 revolution; and the Camp David agreement (1979). Each of these events
had a great impact on the book in Egypt.
The first printing presses with type came to Egypt in 1798, brought
by Napoleon Bonaparte during his invasion of Egypt. Accompanied by fifty
savants, historians, geographers, engineers, linguists, and physicians, Napoleon
claimed that the presses he brought were to help in making available the books
describing Egypt, which his scholars were supposed to and did write. However,
the first book printed was not written by the scholars; it was Amthill Luqmiln
al-l}akim (The Proverbs of Luqman), published by the Orientalist Jean Joseph
Marcel. La Description de /'Egypt, the result of the investigations ofthe scholars
brought by Napoleon, was printed long after his armies had left Egypt in 1801.
In fact, his publication program was aimed at trying to identify the principles
of the French Revolution with Islam. A few Egyptian scholars, their curiosity
aroused, visited the press and asked questions on how it could affect culture,
but the French impact on Egypt as a whole was only gradually and indirectly
felt after the French departure.
The manuscript era did not begin to cede ground until 'Alf
established, in or about 1822, the famous Biiliiq Press.
18
Directed first by
Nicholas al-Masabki (d. 1830), who was of Lebanese origin, the press soon
became the sy,!llbol of modernization in the Arab world. After taking office,
'Alf realized that the key to successfully opposing the might of
the Ottoman Empire and aggressive Europeans like Napoleon lay in education
along Western lines, particularly in practical, technical subjects. Between 1822
and 1842, the press at Biiliiq published 243 titles in Arabic, Thrkish, and Persian.
A glance at the titles shows clearly where 'All's interest was: forty-
eight were on military and naval subjects. He had seen and noted how successful
the modern arms of the French had been against the antiquated arms and
methods of the Mamluks. It should be noted, however, that the books published
in Egypt during the first half of the century were not all in military or applied
sciences; 55.7 percent were in the humanities, the pure and applied sciences
constituted only 27.7 percent, and the social sciences 25.1 percent.
19
In order to prepare for professional schools, and to train officials
and translators, 'All sent students to Europe to study typography,
among other things. He also opened several schools, the most famous of which
was the school of languages (Madrasat al-alsun), opened in 1836. In 1837 he
appointed as its head Rifii'ah Riifi' al-Tahtawl (1801-73). Over the next twenty
years, al-Tahtawl wrote or translated thirty-eight books in different subjects,
including geography, history, Greek philosophy, as well as military science.
Most of these were published by the Biiliiq Press. a!-Tahtiiwl had lived in Paris
for five years. His book, Takhlis al-lbriz ita talkhis Bariz, contains many
observations on the manners and customs of the French. The importance of
this work, published by BiiJaq, resides in telling us how the _men who took
part in the early modernization of Egypt under Mui)ammad 'Ali thought and
felt, and the impact of nineteenth-century Europe on a traditionally educated
Muslim. The French, al-Tahtawi states in his book, compose books on all
subjects, even on such subjects as cooking, which means that even craftsmen
must know how to read in order to acquire a complete knowledge of their craft.
Aware that the system of_schools he had established could not function
without books, Mui)ammad Ali bought several presses and attached them to
the schools he had founded, such as the Abii Zi'bil Press, attached to the school
of medicine.
Biiliiq books are sought after now and valued as important early imprints.
There were, however, criticisms leveled against their production. The title pages
were not independently presented (they were crammed with long introductions
inside of which the title and author's name were inserted without distinguishing
them visibly from the rest of the text) and the beginnings of new chapters were
often not distinguished by larger or different types, scripts, or colors. It was
similar, in these respects, to the way manuscripts were produced. Apparently,
it was difficult to jump from the manuscript age to the age of printing all at
once. The Biiliiq printed books, nonetheless, were clear and easy to read, and
they had hardly any typographical errors.
Unlike in Lebanon, the early presses in Egypt were owned and run by
the government. Private presses hardly existed in Egypt. We know of an 'Abd
al-Riiziq press established in 1837,2 but there is no evidence that it contributed
to book publishing. The role of the private sector was to come later. The social
and cultural situation in Egypt around 1840 was not ready yet for the develop-
ment of private publishing, especially in light of the fact that the Biiliiq Press
welcomed the printing of non-governmental books at the expense of their authors
for reasonable prices,2
1
and that the general public was not yet enlightened
enough on the value of books.
The original commitment of the Biiliiq Press was to government publica-
tions, such as annual reports and the official gazette, al-Waqii:'i'
It nevertheless published a huge number of books in all fields, but_ mostly in
those that conformed or coincided with the ideas of Mui}ammad Ali for the
revival of Egypt. They included books in the military sciences, textbooks, and
books on religious and literary subjects, as well as dictionaries. In fact, the
first book ever printed there was an Italian-Arabic dictionary. There were also
books that might be considered encyclopedias, such as Ma'rifatnii:meh, in
Turkish, and popular works, such as the One Thousand and One Nights and
Latii'if al-Din KhOjii (The Witty Jokes of Na(>r al-Din_Khoja).
Biilaq books were often given as gifts by Mui}ammad 'Ali to European
royalty or to friends and visitors. They were, in fact, read more outside than
inside of Egypt. Apparently, the press did not have a bookstore attached to
246 Atiyeh
it. Edward Lane, who visited Egypt between 1833 and 1835 and wrote a detailed
account of his stay there, does not mention that he himself had seen one.
22
We
know, however, that there were a few bookstores in different parts of the city.
23
A bookstore for BUlaq books was established around 1836, yet the dissemination
of books among the population was extremely limited.
The fortunes of the Biilaq Press fluctuated after the death of Mui}ammad
'Ali. In 1862, Sa'id Pasha (1854-63), the ruler of Egypt, realizing that the press
had fallen on hard times, donated it to 'Abd al-Rai}man Rushdi on the condition
that he would keep printing the laws and the forms needed for government
operations. Twenty years later, the press reverted to the government and several
enhancements were introduced in equipment and typefaces to make it one of
the best in Egypt. In spite of its heavy emphasis on military sciences and
textbooks, the influence of the Biilaq Press was great in that it represented a
leap from the Middle Ages into the modern age. In the first place, it transformed
the way books were produced, making them available cheaply, on a large scale,
and in solid and adequate binding. In addition to its service to education, it
encouraged more people to read and own books. Likewise, it encouraged more
people to publish, thus setting in motion the renaissance of Egypt. As was the
case in Lebanon, the translation of books from Western languages enriched
the Arabic language by the coining of new words and the resuscitation of others.
More importantly, it was the carrier of new ideas and methodologies. In a way,
it upset the traditional trend then represented by al-Azhar. The books published
by that old institution were not only limited in scope, they were rife with glosses
and convoluted language full of rhetoric. _
The expansion of book publishing after Mui}ammad 'Ali continued to
advance as the private sector, especially bookstores, began to assume the
initiative, and the educated public increased in number, particularly during the
rule of Isma'il (1863-79). Book shops becoming publishers is a pattern that
remains alive until now. It was during Isma'il's rule that the Egyptian National
Library was established. There was a hiatus when the number and type of books
published was reduced, during the rule of Tawfiq (1879-92), due to a new law
restricting publications. As for scholarly publishing, which began to pick up
during the second half of the century, special mention should be made of the
Institut Franyais de l'Archeologie Orientale du Caire, founded in 1881 by Gaston
Masparo. Since 1900, the Institut has been its own publisher, and also acted
for several decades as publisher to the Egyptian Antiquities Service, the Coptic
Archaeological Society, the Egyptian Geographical Society, and the illustrious
Institut d'Egypte.24
With the growth of the newspaper and periodical publishing, the printing
presses were improved, especially at the beginning of the British occupation
and during the rise of the nationalist movement that sought independence for
Egypt. The British occupation, in certain ways, provided more freedom of
expression, as long as it did not conflict with Britain's imperial policies. Egypt
was set on its WclY to becoming the intellectual and publishing leader of the
Arab world. This was done with some significant assistance from the Lebanese
and Syrian intellectuals and entrepreneurs who began to immigrate to Cairo
and Alexandria.
The role played by the Syrians (al-Shawiim) in the book and publishing
industries WclS a major one. One of the earliest private publishing houses was
established by an Egyptianized Syrian, Al)mad al-Babi: al-I:Ialabi:, in 1859. In
1894, al-Hilal Bookstore, later called Dar al-Hilal, was established, shortly
after the founding of al-Hilal magazine (1892) by Jurji: Zaydan. Dar al-Hilal
issued hundreds of books by famous Arab and non-Arab authors in all subjects,
and they were distributed all over the world, wherever there were Arabic readers
or institutions with Arab studies. One of the most influential presses, Najfu
Mitrl's Dar al-Ma'arif, played a leading role, together with al-Manar Press,
founded by Rashid Ri<;la, the editor and publisher of al-Maniir magazine.
Another important bookstore and publisher was Yiisuf Tiima al-Bustanfs The
Arab Bookstore. These presses and bookstores published many books by the
Lebanese and Syrian intellectuals who emigrated to Egypt and got involved
with their Egyptian counterparts in the reform movements that were
characteristic of the Arab aWclkening. In addition to making available to a wide
readership the ideas and methods of the West, they wrote and published on
subjects not tackled before, such as Jurji: Zaydan's book on Tiirfkh al-lughah
a/-'arabi yah (History of the Arabic Language); Ibrahim al-Yazi:jl's Taqwfm al-
lisiin al-'arabf (Rectification of the Arabic Tongue); Sulayman al-Bustanfs
translation of Homer's Iliad, with an introduction that remains until now a source
of inspiration for many literary critics; and Khalil Mutran, who introduced
dialogue and unity of structure into Arabic poetry.
By the end of the nineteenth century, Egyptian book production had
increased tenfold. In_ her bibliography on books published in Egypt during the
nineteenth century, 'Ayidah (Nossair) lists 9,782 works under 107 subject
headings. Among them are 2,762 titles dealing with religious subjects, 2,015
in literature, 1,372 in social sciences, 1,092 in history, 705 in philosophy, and
only 242 in the natural sciences. Textbooks numbered 372.
Cairo, with its cosmopolitan environment and high rate of literacy compared
to most Arab cities, grew into a giant book market and intellectual center. The
period between the 1920s and 1952 is dubbed correctly by many scholars as
the liberal age in Egypt. It was a period in which the great writers, such as
Taha Hussein, Al}mad Lutfi al-Sayyi:d, Mal}miid 'Abbas al- 'Aqqad, Tawfiq
al-I:Iakim, and Al}mad Ami:n, among others, wrote, theorized on literary
criticism, and proposed new orientations for social development in a flowing
and elegant language. This was the period that saw the publication of two of
the most controversial in the contemporary history of the Arab world.
248 Atiyeh
In his Fi al-shi'ral-jiihili (On Pre-Islamic Poetry), Taha Hussein, while trying
to prove that pre-Islamic poetry was really non pre-Islamic, but had been forged
in the post-Islamic period, advocated the use of Cartesian methodology, a
method that, if applied to the texts of religion, might cast doubt on their
authentic_ity. In al-Isliim al-}Jukm (Islam and the Principles of Govern-
ment), 'All 'Abd al-Raziq advocated the idea that the caliphate is not a neces-
sary part of Islam. The implication of this was to sanctify the establishment
of a secular state. Rebuttal of these two books was so intense that an entire
bibliography could be devoted to the topic.
This period also saw new endeavors to improve the quality of books. One
of the most significant enterprises was the non-profit organization Lajnat al-
Ta'Irf wa-al-Tarjamah wa-al-Nashr (The Committee tor Writing, Translation,
and Publishing), directed by a number of eminent intellectuals who felt the
need to compensate for the low cultural level of commerciai publishing. The
private sector was motivated mostly by profit, which publishers found highly
accessible by issuing books of religious nature or pulp fiction. The prominence
of religious and heritage books was strengthened by the establishment of the
Dar al-'UlUm Faculty at al-Azhar University, and by an increasing number of
Islamic associations advocating religion as the best defunse against colonialism,
political as well as cultural. Islamic heritage books and religious pamphleteering
became strongly represented on the book publishing scene and so remain until
the present time.
With the corning of the 1952 revolution, the scene changed dramatically.
Nasser's Philosophy of the Revolution and al-Mithaq (Charter) of the Arab
Socialist Union (the party of the government), set in motion (and turmoil) the
nationalization of the publishing industry, in order to help the society transform
itself rapidly into a socialist one. Dar al-Hiliil, Dar al-Ahriim, and Dar ai-Ma'arif
were taken over by the government, but were given semi-autonom_ous status.
A massive publishing organization was created, al-Mu'assasah al-'Ammah lil-
Ta'Irf wa-al-Nashr (the General Authority for Writing and Publishing), and a
governmental plan was drawn. The plan consisted of publishing books and
periodicals that it was thought would meet the cultural, literary, political, social,
scientific, and religious needs of Egypt. Publishing was to deal with social
questions and the Arab revolution, and also with providing Arab libraries with
the best in Arab and world heritage. Translations of the best works in world
literature were to be undertaken (the One Thousand Books Project), but would
not be limited to Western works; African, Asiatic, and Latin American titles
would also be included.
24
In 1972, al-Hay'ah al-'Ammah lil-Kitiib (the General Egyptian
Book Organization, or GEBO) replaced the General Authority for Writing and
Publishing. It was defined as a non-profit enterprise. All book-related activities,
including the National Library and the National Archives, were consolidated
and placed under its wings. Among the many activities GEBO now sponsors
is an annual international book fair during the last week of January.
At present, the Egyptian government, through GEBO and the semi-
autonomous publishing giants of Dar al-Ahram, Dar al-Hilal, and Dar al-
Ma'arif, remains the largest publisher, in spite of the fact that there is little
intervention in the publishing plans of these institutions and the fact that
commercial private publishing has been on the increase since President Sadat's
open-door policy was established.
THE AGONIES OF THE ARABIC BOOK
I would have liked to talk about the ecstatic pleasure one derives from the many
good works published all over the Arab world, but given the overwhelming
number of problems that afflict the Arabic book, one cannot gloss over the
glaring reality. Although I will deal mostly with the Egyptian book, the problems
are not limited to that country; they apply to most Arab countries, in varying
degrees.
The problems facing the book in Egypt may be described as technological,
economic, political, and organizational. The four are naturally interrelated and
need to be looked at jointly. While struggling with its Arab socialism experi-
ment, Egypt sought and was able to raise the standard of living of its masses.
The book was considered one of the basic tools for cultural, economic, and
social development. Because of several factors, however, the book suffered on
many fronts in terms of quality and dissemination. Tharwat 'Ukashah, the
minister of culture, in a statement made in 1967 stated that, "We find it [the
book), dangerously behind in spite of the many efforts, forces, allocated funds.
and material and moral encouragement."
26
Its new socialized structure alienated Egypt from other Arab countries
culturally, and from the technological revolution in printing that was taking
place in the 1970s. The decline of book publishing in Cairo took place at the
same time as Lebanese publishers were modernizing their equipment and
becoming big and efficient distributors of books all over the Arab world. Beirut
became the Arab publishing capital, replacing Cairo. The absence of clear
copyright laws, and the inconsistent implementation thereof, contributed to the
problems in Cairo. Beirut became the beneficiary and the culprit in most cases
of copyright violations. Several of Beirut's publishers excelled in book piracy,
a matter morally reprehensible, but hailed by many as making available, and
cheaply, works that would not have been available otherwise.
Politics was another factor that influenced the relative decline in book
production. Egypt was alienated during the time of the Nasser regime from
Saudi Arabia and Thnisia, both big markets for Egyptian books, and from the
rest of the Arab world after the Camp David Agreement (1979), when it was
boycotted by the members of the League of Arab States. Furthermore,
250 Atiyeh
government intervention, which supported only the public sector, created a
discouraging atmosphere for authors and publishers.
In 1972, the UNESCO-sponsored Year of the Book, the Arab League
Educational, Cultural and Scientific Organization (ALECSO) held a conference
in Doha, Qatar (4-10 December) on the dissemination and distribution of the
Arabic book. Mr. Bahij 'Uthmiin, then the president of the Lebanese Union
of Publishers, reported on the difficulties in disseminating Arabic books.
According to his account, books coming out in one Arab country and going
to other countries, like Iraq, Saudi Arabia, Libya, and others, have to receive
the imprimatur of a censor before distribution. In some other countries, all
imported books have to be distributed by the public sector distribution agencies,
which leads to the same kind of restrictions on access. In fact, most of the
present distribution companies prefer to distribute newspapers and magazines
because it is less risky and more profitable. Smuggling of books by secondary
exporters is also a common phenomenon. Reading habits are still not well
developed, and with competition from audio-visual media, this situation is not
likely to improve. llliteracy rates are still high. Most works are printed in editions
of less than five thousand copies, for an Arab population of 180 million.
Moreover, most Arab countries have not yet developed adequately their national
libraries or national bibliographies.
Probably the greatest agonies come from an indirect pressure, the control
exercised by religious authorities over the doctrinal purity of any book that might
be construed as having even an indirect bearing upon the tenets of Islam, and
in some cases Christianity. Notwithstanding the sophistication of many Arab
writers and their concerns for scholarly research methods and presentation,
many are the books that still lack precision in the texts, and suffer from
typographical errors, and many are the publishers who seek the least expensive
printing and paper, are negligent in placing footnotes, making indexes, ensuring
correct and exact citations, and including all the bibliographic information
needed on the title page. In conclusion, the Arabic book, in spite of the many
and great strides taken towards better, more beautiful presentation, advanced
scholarly approaches, and sophisticated language during two centuries of
expansion, still has a long way to go. Furthermore, in my opinion, the abundance
of religious tracts and belles-lettres has not served to produce a more coherent
and cohesive society especially when one considers the many problems and
conflicts that trouble the Arab world today.
NOTES
1. The earliest Arabic work that has reached us is a book of Christian prayer,
Kitiib ~ a l i i t al-sawii'f (Horlogium breve), which was printed in Fano in 1514.
The first Koran printed was one printed around 1537 in Venice by Alessandro
de Paganino. See Angela Nuovo, "El Corano arabe ritrovato," La Bibliofilia
89, no. 3 (1987), pp. 237-71. Books in Arabic were produced in Italy by
Typographia Medicea, established in 1585 at the advice of Pope Gregory XIII.
In addition to the Bible, the press published Avicenna's Canon Medicinae and
al-Idrisfs Kitab Nuzhat al Mushtiiq. See Josee Balagna, L'imprimerie Arabe
en Occident (XVI", XVIIe, et XVIII siecle) (Paris, 1984).
2. See, on the history of printing in Arab countries, Khalil Sabat, Tiirikh
al-tibii'ah fi al-sharq al-'arabi, 2nd ed. (Cairo, 1966); see also the dissertations
of Moncef Chenoufi, "Le probleme des origines de l'imprimerie et de la presse
arabe en Tunisie dans sa relation avec la Renaissance (Nahda) 1847-1887,"
Universite de Paris IV, 1970; Fawzi Abdulrazak, "The Kingdom of the Book:
The History of Printing as an Agent of Change in Morocco between 1865 and
1912," Harvard University, 1989; and Wahid Ghdoura, Le debut del 'imprimerie,
arabe a Istanbul et en Syrie (1706-1787) (Tunis, 1985).
3. The reference to Lebanon in this article does not take into account the
historical difference between Mount Lebanon, which did not include Beirut,
Tripoli, Sidon, and other areas, and Greater Lebanon, which was proclaimed
by General Gouraud, High Commissioner of the French Republic. Lebanon
became a republic in 1926, and gained its independence from the French in 1943.
4. KarshUni is Arabic in Syriac script.
5. Jabal 'Amil is in southern Lebanon and is inhabited mostly by Shi'ite
Muslims. See Mubammad Khalil al-Muradi, Silk al-durar fi a'yiin al-qam al-
thiini 'ashar, 4 vols. (Cairo, 1301/1883; repr. Baghdad, 1968), 1:7.
6. See Basile Aggoula, "Le livre libanais," in Exposition le livre et le Liban
jusqu'a /900 (Paris, 1982), p. 308.
7. See Mubammad Kurd 'Akf, Khu(a( al-Shiim, 6 vols. in 3, 3rd ed.
(Damascus, 1983), 6:197.
8. Khalil Sabat, Tiirikh al-(ibii'ah fi al-sharq al-'arabi, 2nd ed. (Cairo,
1966), p. 52.
9. Sixteen of Alexander Dumas' (pere) novels were translated, including
such works as The Count of Monte Christo, The Three Musketeers, etc. See
M. YusUf Najm, al-Qi!i!iahft al-adab al-'arabi al-/:ladlth, 3rd ed. (Beirut, 1966),
pp. 21-31.
10. The private library of Nawfal was sold to the American University of
Beirut.
252 Atiyeh
11. For more information on al-Asir and al-AI}dab, see Man1n 'Abbiid,
Ruwwad al-nalujah al-/Jadithah (Beirut, 1952), pp. 72-77.
12. Several books of polemical emendations or corrections of linguistic
errors were produced as the language was being transformed from ornate and
verbose to a more direct and substantial style. Sa'id al-Sharp1ni published al-
Sahm ft takhti'iit ghunyat al-tiilib (The Correctly Hitting Arrow in
Faulting Ghunyat al-Tiilib), a criticism of A. Faris al-Shidyaq's Ghunyat al-tiilib,
a grammar book promoting the new style advocated by al-Shidyaq. Both al-
AI}dab and Al-Asir in turn published rebuttals of al-Sahm.
13. An example of such advertisement reads: "This book is sold in Beirut
by Messrs Karulla, Fatl}allah Tiijir and YiisufKiimid." See Le livre et le Liban,
p. 309. Dr. Yusuf Khoury of The American University of Beirut called my
attention to al-Maktabah al-Jiimi'ah, a bookstore established by Khalfl and Amin
al-Khoury in 1877 in Beirut. The 1888/89 catalog of the bookstore lists titles
published by the bookstore, and religious, scientific, medical, and literary works
sold there, including titles from Turkey, Egypt, Mosul (Iraq), and Germany.
14. See the title page of Yusuf al-Dibs' book, Mughni al-muta'allim (The
Enricher of the Learned) (Beirut, 1869), where it says, "It was printed at the
expense of the author and his friend Rizqallah Khadra."
15. See 'Abd al-'Aziz Awiid, al-ldiirah al- Uthmiiniyah ft wiliiyat Surfyii,
1864-1914 (Cairo, 1969), p. 91.
16. On the Syrians and Lebanese in Egypt, see the chapter on this subject
in Albert Hourani, The Emergence of the Modern Middle East (Berkeley, 1981),
pp. 103-23; also, Thomas Philipp, The Syrians in Egypt (Stuttgart, 1985).
17. Nasrallah, op. cit., p. 91.
18. On the Buliiq Press, known later as al-Matba'ah al-Amiriyah, see the
excellent work of AbU al-Futul} Ra9wiin, Tltrikh Matba'at Buliiq (Cairo, 1953).
19. See the English language introduction in Ayidah (Aida I.
Nossair), Ambic Books Published in Egypt in the Nineteenth Century (Cairo,
1990). The percentages total more than one hundred because some titles' subjects
overlap categories.
20. Sabat, op. cit., p. 175.
21. Ra9wiin, op cit., p. 260.
22. Edward Lane, An Account of the Manners and Customs of Modern
Egyptians Written in Egypt During the lears 1833-35, (London, 1836), p. 190,
"The booksellers in Cairo are, I am informed, only eight in number and their
shops are but ill stocked."
23. Michaud et Poujoulat, Correspondence d'Orient, 8 vols. in 4, 6:299,
Letter 112, Cairo, April, 1831; cited in Ra<;lwan, op. cit., p. 300.
24. John Rodenbeck, "A Scholarly Publisher in Egypt," Scholarly
Publishing (July 1985), p. 320.
25. Sha'ban Khali:fuh, Diir al-Kutub al-Qawmiyah (Cairo, 1991), pp.
267-68.
26. Government of Egypt, Ministry of Culture, "al-Kitiib al-'arabi," in
Arba'at mu'tamariit (Cairo, 1917), p. 209.
-------------------
13
Mass Higher Education and the Religious
Imagination in Contemporary Arab Societies
Dale F. Eickelman
Mass higher education in the Arab and Muslim worlds is reshaping conceptions
of self, religion, nation, and politics. It is as basic to reconfiguring notions
of self and society in the Arab world of the late twentieth century as was the
introduction of printed books in sixteenth-century rural France.t Ironically,
however, we know more about the uses of literacy in medieval and premodern
Europe than in the contemporary Muslim and Arab worlds. Many scholars have
noted linkages between advanced education and religious activists, or "funda-
mentalists," that they are reinstituting older forms of religious understanding
and action rather than creating, even if inadvertently, new ones. The result is
to deflect attention from both conceptual innovations and emerging networks
for communication and action that affect virtually all Muslims and profoundly
shape the direction of contemporary Muslim thought. Fundamentalism, the
claims of its adherents notwithstanding, is a distinctly modern phenomenon.
2
In this article I examine the "objectification" of the religious imagination
in the Muslim Middle East, the process by which three kinds of questions come
to be foregrounded in the consciousness of large numbers of believers: "What
is my religion?" "Why is it important to my life?," and "How do my beliefs
guide my conduct?" Objectification does not mean seeing religion as a uniform
or monolithic entity, although it is precisely that for some thinkers. I argue
that these explicit and "objective" questions are distinctively modern ones that
increasingly shape the discourse and practice of all Muslims, even as some
legitimize their practices and beliefs by asserting a return to authentic established
traditions. I fOcus on how, at this time in history and in certain contexts, religions
have been objectified in the consciousness of many people. In part, this issue
is easier to address than why, but it is also more neglected. For something like
religion to be objectified in people's consciousness, it must be discussed, and
this entails discourse. If, for reasons of political intimidation or social deference,
people do not discuss it directly, then it is discussed publicly for them by
"experts" with whom they may or may not agree.
255
256 Eickelman
Distinctive to the modern era, this discourse and debate about tradition
involve large numbers of people. They also necessarily involve an awareness
of other Muslim and non-Muslim traditions, even if understandings of these
other traditions are often distorted. Mass education and mass communication
facilitate such awareness and, in changing the style and scale of possible
discourse, reconfigure the nature of religious thought and action and encourage
explicit debate over meaning. Although both mass education and mass
communication are important in all contemporary world religions, the full effects
of mass education, especially higher education, are just beginning to be felt
in much of the Muslim world.
My approach in this article is not linear and evolutionary-in this respect
it differs from Habermas',3 although it is inspired by his emphasis upon forms
of communicative action in other respects-but contextual; I seek to describe
the salient characteristics of an integrated cultural transformation. Bourdieu's
4
studies of higher education, which explore correspondences and affinities among
status, authority, and the "ways of knowing" inculcated by various educational
institutions, can serve as a point of departure for understanding the dramatic
transformations of religious authority that are occurring in much of the Muslim
world today. Bourdieu is most effective in suggesting how the complex practices
of educational institutions reproduce unequal relations of wealth and authority
in society, but less so in showing how even repressive political systems leave
room for contestation.
5
Indeed, some form of resistance to a society's central
institutions would appear critical for sustaining the cultural construction of
authoritative discourse, if only to coopt sources of possible opposition and
dissent. In this respect, Gramsci
6
serves as a useful complement to Bourdieu,
who emphasizes the reproduction of existing social arrangements. Although
conceptually less tidy, Gramsci suggests that intellectuals and their discourse,
although constrained by the established social order, never just reproduce it
but create, even if inadvertently, the seeds of resistance and contestation. In
order to focus on the development of new "authoritative" discourses and
resistance to them, I seek to place such discourses in their specific historical
and political contexts.
Some elements of contemporary Islamic ideologies deflect attention away
from such specific contexts. Muslims conventionally represent themselves as
"People of the Book," yet until recently most Muslims-and certainly those
in the Middle East-were not sufficiently literate to read or comprehend directly
the Qur'an or other religious texts. Nonetheless, the idea of the book and the
text has long pervaded many social contexts. In this respect, the uses of literacy
and of the spoken and written word in the Arab "core" of the Muslim world
strongly resemble those in the so-called Muslim "periphery."
7
Even where texts
are not present, people behave as if they are. The idea of the Book, by analogy
with the divine text of the Qur'an,
8
conveys for many Muslims the idea that
Mass Higher Education and the Religious Imagination 257
valued knowledge is fixed and memorizable. In Morocco, the cognitive style
associated with Islamic knowledge remains closely tied to popular understandings
of Islam and has important analogies in nonreligious spheres of knowledge.
9
Memorization of the Qur' an continues to be a virtually unquestioned form
of cultural capital for Moroccans, although few still memorize it in its entirety,
as was common for an earlier generation. Qur'iinic memorization served as
a paradigm for subsequent learning in the religious sciences as well as in other
fields of knowledge; ideally, texts were mnemonically "possessed." Beginning
in the 1920s and 1930s, the Moroccan elite began to send their sons to the schools
of the French protectorate. As this occurred, the prestige of Islamic higher
education, left increasingly to students from rural regions, suffered a rapid
decline, although the popular idea of knowledge as fixed and memorizable still
prevailed.
10
The advent of mass higher education since the 1970s, however,
challenges this paradigm and offers an alternative cognitive style.
RELIGIOSITY AND MASS HIGHER EDUCATION
Major changes in basic religious or political perceptions often occur incremen-
tally and are not perceived as significant at the time. Only in retrospect are
they recognized as sharp breaks with the past. Discussing ties of dependence
in feudal Europe, Marc Bloch
11
wrote that successive generations did not
consciously create new social forms but instead gave rise to them "in the process
of trying to adapt the old." Much the same can be said of mass higher education.
Even when mass higher education is used to sustain old patterns of belief and
authority, its very structure engenders new "authoritative" ways of thinking
about self, religion, and politics.
For the most part, mass higher education is a recent phenomenon in the
Middle East. It began in earnest only in the 1950s. Fifteen to twenty years later,
that is, by 1975 or 1980, after large numbers of students began to complete its
advanced cycles, its consequences could be more clearly discerned. In Egypt,
the number of primary school pupils more than doubled in the decade following
the 1952 revolution. Corresponding increases in secondary and university
education began in the mid-1960s (see fig. 13.1). The timing of educational
expansion varies for other parts of the Middle East. Major educational expansion
in Morocco began in the 1960sP In Oman, a case to be considered in detail
here, educational opportunities began to expand significantly only in the 1970s.
In 1972-73, there were 25,000 students at all levels in Oman. By 1982-83, there
were 142,000, and by 1987-88, 276,000. In 1975-76, a mere 22 students were
enrolled in secondary education within Oman. By 1987-88, this number had
risen to 13,500. In postsecondary education, a critical mass among Omanis
emerged only in the late 1980sP
A complementary measure of change is book production. As of 1982, the
Arab world was producing 40 books per million inhabitants, far below the world
258
Post-Secondary Enrollm
(rlghthand 8Cale)
Eickelman
Morocco
t'louaandl
240
55 60 65 70 75 80 85
Yur
50 55 60 65 70 75 80 85
15000
Oman
3800
85 87
Fig. 13.1. Statistics on secondary education in Egypt, Morocco, and Oman.
average of 162 titles per million. Although more recent figures are unavailable,
the gap appears to be closing rapidly.
14
Likewise, the first cohort of Moroccans
to benefit from mass higher education in Arabic, as opposed to French, and
to have acquired their pervasive "habits of thought"
15
in the country's national
language, is creating a demand for the "re-imagining"
16
of Islam and national
identity. Only in the last few years has a significant readership for "quality"
books in Arabic developed in MoroccoP For the increasingly influential cohort
of university graduates, reading is a means of "appropriating,"
18
organizing,
and making objective ideas of society, religion, and self.
Authoritative Discourse
With the spread of mass higher education in the Muslim world, access to the
Qur'iin as well as to other books and the ways of knowing inculcated by them,
has shifted in form. Religious authority in earlier generations derived from
the mastery of authoritative texts studied under recognized scholars. Mass
education fosters a direct, albeit selective, access to the printed word and a
break with earlier traditions of authority. As Hassan al-Turabi, the Sorbonne-
educated leader of the Muslim Brothers in the Sudan and a former attorney-
general, has said, ''Because all knowledge is divine and religious, a chemist,
an engineer, an economist, [and] a jurist are all ulamii' [religious scholars]. ''
19
Thus, the privileged position of traditionally educated religious scholars has
eroded. Although religious activism has many sources, it appeals mainly to
those who have benefited from modern education. In 1953, for example,
only 22 percent of the Egyptian Muslim Brothers were not of the educated
urban middle classes.
20
In the occupied West Bank after 1967, the occupying
authorities encouraged religious activism in order to counter secular nation-
alism; belatedly, they discovered that popular religious protest offered an
equally if not more tenacious opposition to their authority. As early as 1979,
a poll at one West Bank university indicated that 43 percent of the students
identified themselves with fundamentalist rather than with secular nationalist
organizations. Throughout the occupied territories, youths "with a relatively
high educational level" are the core of these groups.
21
Muslim fundamentalist
discourse, such as that of Morocco's 'Abd ai-Saliim Yiisln,
22
assumes a
familiarity with the language of Marxist and other "Western" discourses,
against which it confidently reacts. Belief and practice are now expressed in
public and explicit forms and are more directly related to political action than
they previously were.
Sayyid Qutb's Ma'a/imfi al-(ariq (Signposts),
23
said to be the most widely
read book among younger Muslims \\Orldwide, \\Ould never have had the impact
it did without the spread of mass education and the access to analytical and
exegetical texts that such education provides. In Iran, the Friday sermon has
become the focal political event; in it, government speakers explain policies,
problems, and events of the week to audiences much wider than any assembled
during the Shah's regime, notwithstanding the Pahlavi state's full control over
mass communications. These sermons often refer to published sources and
arguments fur authority, implying an audience familiar with texts and the
principles of citation. Not all of the audience can follow such arguments in
detail, but they recognize the forms of authority. Even the nonreligious and
the antireligious are obliged to follow the sermons to remain abreast of political
developments, and the sermons themselves presume an awareness of world
events and an ability to understand policy.
260 Eickelman
Religion as System and Object
A second consequence of mass higher education is perhaps most evident from
contemporary fundamentalist discourse, in which religious beliefs are seen as
systems to be distinguished from one another. The fundamentalist thinker Sayyid
Qutb, executed by Nasser in 1966, described Islam as a "system" (minhaJ) of
beliefs and doctrines. Qutb saw Islam as self-contained, yet thinking of religion
in this way makes it possible to borrow from other systems and to incorporate
changes,
24
thereby increasing the system's viability. When fundamentalists
declare that they are engaged in the "Islamization" of their society, they make
explicit their sense of religious beliefs as an objective system. Thus, since the
1980s, Moroccans have commonly referred to activists as "the Muslims" (al-
muslimun). Irony is far from absent, since all but about 20,000 of Morocco's
26 million citizens are Muslim.
Language and Community
Finally, the standardized language of mass higher education encourages new
senses of community and affinity. AndersonH argues, for example, that the rise
of written vernacular languages in Europe since the sixteeth century and the
spread of print technology have created language communities wider than those
of face-to-face interactions yet narrower than the communities created by shared
sacred languages. With modifications, this premise can be transposed to many
Islamic contexts.
One indication of shifts in the religious imagination of a younger, educated
generation in many parts of the Middle East is the effort of the state to coopt
fundamentalist discourse. In Morocco in the 1960s and early 1970s, both the
monarchy and its political opposition employed a "developmentalist" idiom
in which "religious" issues were separated from "political" ones. By the late
1970s, the public language of the monarchy's supporters was much more
religiously oriented, and the monarch asserted that he was developing a cadre
of Ministry of the Interior officials trained in administration and Islamic thought.
He claimed that his political actions were modeled upon those of the Prophet
Mul)ammad:
In all modesty, l:lassan's school is the school of MuiJammad V. .. and the school
of MuiJammad V is that of the Prophet .... Most of us know the Prophet only
as messenger of God .... His political and diplomatic life remain unknown
and we await the day when someone firmly attached to his religion and proud
of its teachings will write on this subject.
26
From North Africa to Jordan, Egypt, and Thrkey, the impact of modern
mass education is pervasive. In the context of a set national curriculum in which
Islamic studies is one subject among many, students are taught about the unity
of Muslim thought and practice. An impersonal relation between students and
curriculum is stressed, and matters of controversy among Muslims are excluded.
Even while teaching that Islam permeates all aspects oflife, the formal principles
of Islamic doctrine and practice are compartmentalized and made an object
of study. As mentioned earlier, Sayyid Q u ~ b employed terms such as
"curriculum" (minfuy) to describe Muslim doctrine as a system of closely related
beliefs and principles. This pervasive notion of system is a profoundly new
element in modern religious thought, as are the catechisms that are now
becoming common for many Muslims, including Ibii<JI Muslims who, together
with the better known and more numerous Sunnl and Shl'ah, form the third
major doctrinal cluster (madhhah) in the wider Islamic community. Such
catechisms help their schooled users to understand the key thinkers of their
tradition and to explain doctrinal tenets to other Muslims.H
RELIGION AND EDUCATION IN OMAN
The adoption of mass higher education in Oman
28
is sufficiently recent that
I was able to witness its beginning in the late 1970s. Schooling became widely
available after the 1970 palace coup in which Qiibiis ibn Sa'ld replaced his father,
Sa'ld ibn Taymur (1932-70), as ruler. By the early 1980s, Oman had a sufficient
number of secondary school graduates, members of the armed services and
civilian government with in-service training, and university students abroad
(and, since the opening of Sultan Qaboos University in 1986, in Oman itself)
to engender a transformation in what constitutes authoritative religious discourse.
The shift to a print- and cassette-based religiosity and the exposure of large
numbers of young Omanis to a written, formal, "modern standard" Arabic
through schooling and the mass media have altered the style and content of
authoritative religious discourse and the role it plays in shaping and constraining
domestic and regional politics.
29
The overall trend has been one of turning away from ritual and symbolic
contexts in which-to cite an account of a contemporary Mayan community
in Guatemala-"meaning comes to rest more on usage than on referentiality;
learning consists of improvisation rather than rationalization; and mastery of
form ultimately takes precedence over understanding of context,"
30
and toward
intellectualism and an explicit statement of belief inseparable from the study
of texts, or at least an invocation of them. Because the discourse of Oman's
mufti, Shaykh Ai)mad ibn I:Iamad al-Khalill, is authorized, frequent, and
publicly accessible, it provides an accurate reading of contemporary religious
trends even as it reflects and responds to competing Muslim voices.
For example, when in 1986 a senior religious authority in Saudi Arabia
issued a fatwil (authoritative religious interpretation) that was interpreted as
hostile to the lbii<Jiyah, al-Khalm, who is lbiiQI, responded in a nationally
televised address by invoking specific texts and thinkers as his authorities.
Indeed, the perceived attack from an unsympathetic Muslim authority was part
262 Eickelman
of an overall pattern of competing Muslim discourses shaped by discursive
texts.
31
The major difference between the lb<ll;liyah of Oman and their counter-
parts in Algeria and Libya is that modern educational opportunities came last
to Oman. Students and other Omanis looked to the mufti to formulate appro-
priate ways of explaining Ibii<;li interpretations of Islam to other Muslims. These
students constitute the development of explicit statements of belief and practice.
Indeed, Oman's mufti rarely puts his ideas in writing himself, but they are
frequently promulgated through cassettes and public addresses that are later
transcribed (and occasionally translated) fur use in discussing Islam with other
Muslims or representing Omani religious traditions to outsiders.
32
One cassette,
for example, responds to a letter from an Omani student in the United States
who had written the mufti that some of his "Sunni brothers" had warned against
allowing lbii<;lis to lead prayers or participate "in the administration of our
mosques and Islamic Centers in this place on the claim that they are a section
of the Khawarij ," an early Islamic revolutionary sect that advocated death for
Muslims not adhering strictly to its tenets. The student had asked for guidance
in responding to such claims and "the reason for not circulating [lbii<;li) books
and references in the libraries and in the Muslim Universities."
33
Religiously minded younger Omanis, especially those who take seriously
the critiques of contemporary Arab and Muslim fundamentalist and radical
thinkers, such as the late Sayyid Qutb, find Shaykh al-KhaliU's arguments
persuasive. The mufti, despite the fact that he holds a government sinecure,
cites with approval books banned in Oman, giving the appearance of autonomy
from state censorship and control. As in Egypt,3
4
state authorities, by
"authorizing" some radical discourse, encompass and control it. Omanis harbor
few illusions that Shaykh al-Khalili's invocation of prohibited literature will
have any effect on its continued interdiction. The mufti's discourse shows how
a spokesperson for the ruling elite can coopt discourse of the opposition,
including Marxism, and integrate some traditional practices, such as the dars,
into modern contexts in order to sustain authority. Some of the mufti's most
biting critiques are offered as quotations or paraphrases from other writers,
which distances him from formulations he nonetheless offers with approval.
Shaykh al-Khalili is careful to specifY authors, titles, page numbers, and often
even publishers-a form of citation familiar to members of his audience with
a modern education but absent from traditional religious discourse.
Shaykh al-Khalili's discourse is almost exclusively oral, so that even
newspaper summaries of his views are edited by others.
35
He regularly travels
throughout the Sultanate, meeting with religious notables, and draws large
crowds for his public lessons. When the ruler ordered special prayers in support
of the Palestinian people in March 1988, the mufti led the congregation in one
of Oman's largest mosques. Through regular radio programs and a weekly
newspaper column, he offersfatwas in response to queries from Omanis. Shaykh
al-Khallli's frequent participation in international Islamic conferences-in Jidda,
in Cairo, and at Sultan Qaboos University in February and March 1988 alone-is
extensively reported. In addition to undertaking this heavy schedule of speaking,
the mufti plays a pivotal role in committees that shape public religious expression
in schools, the media, and the "suggested" texts for Friday sermons. Again,
however, these sermons are in formal Arabic, and thus their specific content
is understood only by traditionally educated religious scholars and those who
have received a modern education.
Shaykh al-KhaliU's articulation of Islamic issues contrasts sharply with the
pattern that prevailed in Oman until the 19/Us. For the Iba<.ilyah, the older pattern
was sustained by an interlocking universe of religious notables whose literary
output centered on poetry and tribal histories that were circulated largely in
manuscript form among the educated elite.
36
Alternative constructions of Islam
and of Muslim identity were marginal concerns. Textual references were
primarily to Omani scholars and did not reflect debate or confrontation with
the wider Muslim community. For instance, in Oman of the 1920s and 1930s,
the presence of the prominent Tripolitanian lba<;II writer and Arab nationalist
Sulayman al-Bariini (1870-1940) had no significant influence on the form of
religious discourse.
37
In many parts of Oman, Sunni, Shi'i, and lbal;li com-
munities were closely intertwined, but their relations were of juxtaposition rather
than of dialogue and interaction. Members of each community were aware of
the religious practices of the others, but this awareness did not engender a
systematic formulation of sectarian distinctions. This awareness came to the
forefront with the introduction of modern education.
Until the last two decades, lbal;\1, Sunni, and Shi'i doctrines and practices
were not explicitly thought of as systems that could be compared and contrasted.
What was practiced was assumed to be Islamic, pure and simple. Omanis were,
of course, aware of other Muslim communities, some very close at hand, but
the other communities and their interpretations of doctrine and practice were
at the periphery of the moral imagination of religious intellectuals and others.
The intensification of government services, education, and control since
1970 has heightened people's imagination of Oman as a political community,
38
with territorial limits and spheres of authority accepted by both the ruler's
supporters and his opponents. Although this transformation was accelerated
after 1970, it was well under way before then. Sultan Sa'id may have been a
reactionary in the last decades of his rule, but his repressive actions brought
a new unity to Oman's diverse sectarian and ethnic population; their dislike
of him engendered a sense of unity that could not be broken even by enticements
from neighboring countries then opposed to Oman.
39
The government of Sultan
Sa 'id may have been weak in scale, scope, and services, but it provided a clearly
defined center against which its opponents united as Omanis. In 1965, a United
Nations team that had conducted extensive interviews with Omani exiles in Saudi
Arabia, Cairo, and elsewhere concluded:
264 Eickelman
Most persons interviewed made it clear that they would perfer to see Oman
united as one country. Some had in mind the unification of the territories
previously controlled by the Sultan and the Imam, while others wished to see
the Trucial Sheikhdoms also included as part of the future Oman. One person
said that there was no Muscat, only Oman. Another said that people from
Oman and from Muscat were all Omanis .... Oman had been one country before
its division and it should be one country again.
40
In post-1970 Oman, the state has heightened the sense of national identity
by vastly expanding education, the bureaucracy, the police, military and security
services, business opportunities, and by providing infrastructure and communi-
cation facilities. In textbooks and formal discourse, Omanis are treated as
"citizens" (al-muwiitinun), a role with implied obligations to and reciprocal
expectations of the state, the ruler, and his close associates. "Nation" (wa(an)
in the northern Oman interior no longer primarily means one's community or
tribal territory, but Oman itself. Many young Ornanis perceive the obligations
and expectations framed by the state's new rhetoric as hypocritical, but this
rhetoric nonetheless forms the articulated standard by which policies and
decisions are justified. Indeed, requesting the government to adhere to its stated
principles is a tolerated form of dissent.
Mass education has had a major impact on the style of religiosity of younger
Omanis, even as state authorities seek to use education to preserve "traditional"
values and to distance religion from the political sphere. At its most basic, the
style of intellectual technology introduced by modern schooling constitutes a
significant break with the earlier emphasis upon the written word, mediated
by an oral tradition and oriented toward a mastery of accepted religious texts
acquired through study under religious scholars recognized by the wider
community. At least in fOrmal terms, a curriculum of specifically delineated
subjects and prescribed texts is taught by a changing array of teachers, and
competence is measured by examination. Nonetheless, as seen in the iconic
value of the mufti among Omanis who cannot follow his lessons in formal
Arabic, replete with spoken references and page citations, the older style of
religiosity exists alongside the new one and is selectively incorporated into
contemporary dominant discourse.
The prescribed curriculum has made Islamic studies a nonsectarian subject.
This "generic" Islam includes such topics as the life of the Prophet Mul.tammad
and those of his sayings (i.tadi:th) that Sunni:, Ibii<;ll, and Shi'I Muslims all accept
as authentic. As a consequence, the curriculum includes no discussion of the
development of Iba<;lism or of major doctrinal divisions within the Muslim
community. The same "generic" Islam is propagated in Omani newspapers and
periodicals and in the Friday sermons carried on Oman radio and television.
An unintended consequence of making Islam a part of the curriculum is
to make it a subject that must be "explained" and "understood." Yet treating
Islam as a system of beliefs and practices implicitly highlights differences within
the Muslim community. Thus one Omani from the interior, now a police official,
recalled his experiences as a boarder at a secondary school in the late 1970s,
his first close association with Omanis from sects other than his own:
In religion classes, the teachers, who were mostly Egyptian, were careful to
cite only sayings of the Prophet that \\ere a c c e p t e d ~ all the sects [madhiihib].
Once, when a teacher quoted one not accepted as authentic by the Shi'ah,
they walked out of class and staged a protest. We never discussed sectarian
matters in class; that was forbidden. In the dormitories, our discussions were
often intense. Our purpose wasn't to convince others to change their sect
[madhhab], but to make the best argument possible fur our side [tarafina].
(Interview, New York, 20 May 1985)
Such discussion requires participants to emphasize the distinctive features
of their beliefs. The previously cited letter from a student to Shaykh al-KhaliU
indicates that the awareness of sectarian differences is further accentuated when
Omanis participate in religious activities with their counterparts, sometimes
perceived as hostile or misinformed, from Muslim groups outside Oman.
Participation in Muslim associations and study groups, as well as exposure
to video and audio cassettes and the literature of various groups, also shifts
shared perceptions of Islamic thought and the context in which it is shaped.
Ready access to the printed word and to expositions of Islamic doctrine in
transnational Arabic (as opposed to regional and local dialects) largely derives
from modem mass education, radio, television, and cassettes and is fairly recent
for most Ornanis. The state creates and sustains a communications network
that touches the lives of most citizens. In other cases, the state interdicts certain
communications or expressions of opinion.
The movement to institute Friday sermons at mosques throughout Oman
in the 1980s constituted a subtle challenge to state authority. At the same time,
it illustrated the importance of the shift from ritual to explicit statements of
belief. Among the lba<;liyah of Oman's northern interior, only the imfun in Nizwa
offered Friday sermons prior the the "new era." As young Ornanis became
educated, however, many of them led movements to have Friday sermons read
in mosques throughout the interior, as is now done. One of Oman's first
generation of village schoolteachers observed of the northern Oman interior,
"People here do not know Islam; they pray and sacrifice, but they do not know
why" (interview, Nizwa region, 9 March 1988). Before the rnid-1970s, statements
such as this would have been almost incomprehensible in most towns and
villages, but by the late 1980s they had become so common that older persons,
who disagreed with the notion that "being Muslim" entailed an ability to
articulate a credo, could "interpret" such comments for me and could identify
the characteristics of those most likely to share them: younger, educated Omanis.
266 Eickelman
This nascent intelligentsia is independent of state authority and often
skeptical of it, pointing out discrepancies between what they see as the law
of the Sultanate and the prescriptions of Islamic law (shartah). Yet these same
critics are products of the modern state, educated and employed by it, and they
concur with the state, at least for the present, on the limits of public discourse.
The mufti's allusions to earlier forms of-and deviations from-Islamic rule
are applied by some of his audience to contemporary local situations. At the
same time, however, the mufti is the Omani representative to the Islamic
Conference Organization and other international religious bodies. Even
arrangements for the l)iljj (the pilgrimage to Mecca) pass through governmental
organizations and are bound by regulations established by state authorities. In
1987, the minister of justice announced plans to coordinate "objective" programs
in religious education, sermons, and media discussion of religious issues to
"enlighten the public on religious matters and to urge the believers to fulfill
their obligations."
41
It could be misleading to speak of an Omani, Pakistani,
Saudi, French, and Moroccan Islam, but the boundaries, administrative and
economic ties, and traditions of national entities implicitly shape religious
discourse, just as a print-oriented, modernist Islam induces the specific
discussion of sectarian divergences. In Oman, as in other countries, much
Islamic literature circulates in samizdat fOrm, not because it is "subversive"
in the sense of attacking the state, but because it has not found explicit approval.
For example, one Algerian book
42
provides a catechism of lbii<;II beliefs and
"correct" sources and indicates its "stand-alone" nature by appending a glossary
of key historical events, personalities, and theological terms (kaliimiyah) so
that interested readers can acquire a "proper" understanding without the tutorials
of traditional Islamic learning. Such books had no audience in Oman a decade
ago and were not in local circulation.
CONCLUSION
Oman provides a recent example of a general shift to a religious activism that
marginalized the authority of traditional religious leaders, a trend paralleled
elsewhere among both Muslim and non-Muslim populations, including those
in Indonesia and India.
43
With this transformation, religious authority shifts
from elite specialists recognized as masters of religious texts and often
inaccessible rhetorical forms to religious and political activists who seek open
religious discussion and action and whose authority is based upon persuasion
and the interpretation of accessible texts. This shift reshapes national cultures
and politics because it constitutes a critique of arbitrary state authority and
questions state efforts, as in Oman and Morocco, to coopt religious activism.
While the full political concomitants of the shift are beyond the scope of this
article, there are indications among Shi'i Arab intellectuals in the Gulf, for
example, that even the Qur'iin is no longer invoked as an unquestioned source
for the legitimization of democratic moves because, as an Arab Gulf businessman
put it, "terms such as 'consultation' [shura] occur only infrequently and do
not constitute a fully developed political theory" (interview, Washington, DC,
27 April 1990). Such a statement implies a reading and analysis of the Qur' an
as a text and an explicit notion of theory and interpretation.
The new forms of religious understandings are pervasive but do not
inexorably displace older forms. Elements of traditional religious understandings
often survive in altered form. Many aspects of madrasah (mosque school)
education remain significant. In Morocco, for example, the models of peer
learning in madrasah education and in religious brotherhoods have been taken
over by religious activists, who are often obliged to meet surreptitiously because
of state sanctions against them.
The monarchy, for its part, uses the Qarawiyin mosque-university to train
senior administrators in the religious sciences in an effort to accord the state
greater legitimacy; and religious lessons (dars), often with the monarch in
attendance, are broadcast nightly throughout Ramru;lan, the Muslim lunar month
of fasting.
44
In some parts of rural Morocco, wealthy Muslims sponsor small
madrasahs, in which men of learning who congregate to study religious texts
in the older mnemonic tradition are fed and lodged at the patron's expense.
Fanny Colonna (personal communication, 1975) observed that in the Gurara
region of southern Algeria, known for its tradition of religious learning, Qur' anic
schooling was considered better adapted to local needs than the schooling
provided by the state. Support for Qur'anic schooling thus also served as a
vehicle for contesting state authority.
Madrasahs in Iran now serve as places to train the political elite, a reversal
of their role before the 1979 revolution, when many madrasah students were
drop-outs from secular higher education, which required them to pass entrance
examinations.
45
Because they are trained in both traditional and modern schools,
young Iranian mullahs are able to "bridge" religious styles, utilizing aspects
of both forms of religious expression as circumstances warrant. Text-based
religious activism may constitute a new dominant religiosity but this, does not
prevent its carriers from selectively incorporating older forms. Elsewhere, as
in the Arabian peninsula and in an Islamicizing Pakistan, jurists and teachers
of the religious sciences for all levels of state education receive highly modified
forms of what is nonetheless called "traditional" Islamic education.
The Prophet Mul)ammad's contemporaries, whose lives bridged the pre-
Islamic age of ignorance and the age of Islam, were called mukha4rams.
Moroccan intellectuals now in their forties sometimes apply this term to
themselves. Many shared the hope of imminent political and economic reform
in the heady years after independence. Now they share a disenchantment with
the commitment to reform of an earlier generation, having seen that the end
of colonial domination, like the enthusiasms for secular ideologies in the 1960s
268 Eickelman
and early 1970s, brought no significant transformations. Some have placed their
hopes in the new forms of religiosity with their implicit promise of reform and
renewal. Many, however, do so in a way critically different from that of their
predecessors. They apply the term mukhaqram to themselves, but also point
out how their practical understanding of religion differs from that of their
seventh-century counterparts. They are not just conscious of adhering to (or
reacting against) innovative forms of religious belief and practice; they also
think of these new forms as systems that can be differentiated from others and
consciously reoorked. This consciousness of form prevents authoritative
knowledge from being monolithic and states from coopting an objectified Islam
for themselves: alternatives can always be envisaged, even as the determinative
power of historical context is recognized. As antipathetic as some contemporary
Muslim religious activists say they are to the "West" they nonetheless share
with those who live in the West a commitment to texts, analysis, synthesis,
and personal authority that draws upon their own traditions and heritage.
NarES
The author wishes to thank the National Science Foundation, The Fulbright
Faculty Research Abroad Program, and the MacArthur Foundation Program
for Research for supporting his field research. Thanks also are extended to
all those who reviewed this paper, which first appeared in the American
Ethnologist after its delivery at the conference, The Book in the Isllmic World,
and is reprinted here with kind permission from the American Anthropological
Association.
1. See, on the introduction of printed books, Natalie Zemon Davis,
"Printing and the People," in Society and Culture in Early Modern France,
ed. N.Z. Davis (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1975), pp. 189-226.
See also Jack Goody, The Logic of Writing and the Organization of Society
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1986); and Brian Stock, The
Implications of Literacy (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1983).
2. See Bruce B. Lawrence, Defenders of God: Fundamentalist Revolt against
the Modern Age (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1989).
3. See Jurgen Habermas, Communication and the Evolution of Society
(Boston: Beacon Press, 1979).
4. See Pierre Bourdieu, Homo Academicus (London: Polity Press, 1988).
5. See Jean Comaroff, Body of Power, Spirit of Resistance: The Culture
and History of a South Jlfrican People (Chicago: University of Chicago Press,
1985).
6. Antonio Gramsci, "The Intellectuals," in Selections from the Prison
Notebooks, ed. and trans. Q. Hoare and G.N. Smith (New York: International
Publishers, 1971), pp. 3-43.
7. Michael Lambeck, "Certain Knowledge, Contestable Authority: Power
and Practice on the Islamic Periphery," American Ethnologist 17 (1990), pp.
23-40.
8. Johannes Pederson, The Arabic Book, trans. G. French (Princeton, NJ:
Princeton University Press, 1984).
9. Dale F. Eickelman, "The Art of Memory: Islamic Education and Its
Social Reproduction," Comparative Studies in Society and History 20 (1978),
pp. 465-516. See also the author's Knowledge and Power in Morocco !Princeton,
NJ: Princeton University Press, 1985).
10. Ibid. See also Jacques Berque, "Dans le Maroc Nouveau: Le role d'une
universite islamique," Annates d'histiore economique et sociale 10 (1938), pp.
193-207; and "Lieus et moments du reformisme islamique," in Maghreb:
Histoire et societes, ed. J.B. (Paris: Editions J. Duculot, 1974), pp. 162-88.
11. See Marc Bloch, Feudal Society (Chicago: University of Chicago Press,
1964 [1939]).
12. World Bank, T#Jrld Development Reports, volumes for 1981-1989 (New
York: Oxford University Press, 1981-89).
13. The statistics on which these graphs are based are necessarily
approximate, as countries frequently change their classification of educational
institutions. In smaller countries such as Oman, students in military and police
academies and in specialized courses sponsored by government ministries are
excluded from the statistics on secondary and postsecondary education. Further,
students whose education is supported by private funds, a significant phe-
nomenon in a state with oil revenues, are underreported. See Sultanate of Oman
(Development Council, Technical Secretariat), StatisticalJioar Book, volumes
for 1979-1989 (Muscat: Directorate General of National Statistics).
14. lves Gonzalez-Quijano, "Le livre arabe et !'edition en Egypt," Bulletin
du Centre de Documentation Economiques, Juridiques et Sociales, Cairo, 25
(1989), special issue, p. 18.
15. See Bourdieu, op. cit., and his La noblesse d'etat (Paris: Editions de Minuit,
1989). See also M'hammed Sabour, Homo Academicus Arobicus (Joensuu,
Finland: University of Joensuu Publications in Social Sciences, no. 11, 1988).
270 Eickelman
16. See Benedict R. Anderson, Imagined Communities (London: Verso,
1983).
17. Michael W. Albin, "Moroccan-American Bibliography," in The Atlantic
Connection: 200 ~ a r s of Moroccan-American Relations, I786-I986, ed. J.
Bookin-Weiner and M. El Mansour (Rabat: Edino Press, 1990), pp. 5-18.
18. Roger Chartier, The Cultural Uses of Print in Early Modern France,
trans. L.G. Chochrane (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1987), pp.
6-11.
19. James Piscatori, Islam in a Ubrld of Nation-States (New York:
Cambridge University Press, 1986). Seep. 19, where the author cites Hassan
al-Turabi.
20. Ibid., p. 29.
21. Jean-Franyois Legrain. "Islarnistes et lutte national palestinienne dans
les terri to ires occupes par Israel," Revue fram;aise de science politique 6 (1986),
p. 229.
22. See Abd Assalam Yassine, ILl Revolution a l 'heure del 'Islam (Grignac-
la-Nerthe, France, 1981).
23. Sayyid Qutb, Ma'alim fi al-(ariq [Signposts] (Cairo, Dar al-Shuriiq,
1981).
24. William E. Shepard, "Islam as a 'System' in the Later Writings of
Sayyid Qutb," Middle Eastern Studies 25 (1989), pp. 45-46.
25. Anderson, op. cit.
26. Hassan II (King of Morocco), Discours et interviews (Rabat: Ministry
of Information, 1984), p. 162.
27. See, for example, Baki:r ibn Sa'id A'washt, Dirasilt Islamiyah fi al-
u.rul al-Ibat/iyah (Cairo, 1988). lbfu;U Muslims constitute just under half of
Oman's indigenous population of about 1.1 million. Significant lba<;II com-
munities are also found in East Africa, Libya, and southern Algeria. Non-lba<;li
examples of catechisms include Muhammad Harnidullah's Introduction to Islam,
2nd ed. (Gary, IN, 1970), intended as a "correspondence course on Islam"
and available in several languages, and Mehmet Soymen's Concise Islamic
Catechism, trans. I. Ekmeleddin (Ankara: Directorate of Religious Affairs,
1979), which was translated from Turkish into English as a "manual" for
English-speaking Muslims.
28. The country's official name until 1970 was the Sultanate of Muscat
and Oman, reflecting a de facto division of the northern half of the country
from 1913, following a religious uprising in the northern interior, to 1955 (the
coast was controlled by the sultan, the interior by a theocratic lba<;II imam).
With British support in 1955, the northern interior was assimilated into the
sultan's domains and the imam fled into exile in Saudi Arabia. A major uprising
two years later required British intervention to suppress. From 1957 to 1970,
Arab League supporters of the imam-in-exile urged the United Nations to
recognize Oman's northern interior as an independent state.
29. Dale F. Eickelman, "lbadism and the Sectarian Perspective," in Oman:
Economic, Social and Strategic Developments, ed. B.R. Pridham (London:
Croom Helm, 1987), pp. 31-50; also the author's "National Identity and
Religious Discourse in Contemporary Oman," International Journal of Islamic
and Arabic Studies 6 (1989), pp. 1-20.
30. John Watanabe, Mayan Saints and Souls in a Changing World (Austin,
TX: University of Texas Press, 1992), p. 99. For Sumatra, see John Bowen,
Sumatran Politics and Poetics: Gayo History, I900-1989 (New Haven, CT: Yale
University Press, 1991).
31. Eickelman, "National Identity," p. 1-20.
32. See Al)mad ibn l:famad al-Khallll, Who Are the Ibadhis?, trans. Ahmad
Hamud A1-Maamiry (Zanzibar: al-Khayirah Press, 1988); also his The Spread
of Ibadhism in North Africa, trans. A.H. Al-Maamiry (Muscat, 1989).
33. al-Khallll, Who Are the Ibadhis?, p. 1.
34. See Timothy Mitchell, "L'experience de l'emprisonnement dans le
discours islamiste," in Intellectuels et militants de l 'islam contemporain, ed.
G. Kepel and Y. Richard (Paris: Seuil, 1990), pp. 193-212.
35. Sayf ibn ed. "Mul)a<;tarat al-'isra' wa-al-mi'raj,
yui)addithuha samai)at al-Shaykh Al)mad ibn I:Iamad al-Khallll'' (Speech on
Prophet Mul)ammad's Night Journey to the Seventh Heaven by His Eminence
Shaykh Al)mad ibn I:Iamad al-Khallll), 'Uman, 25 March 1988, p. 11.
272 Eickelman
36. Dale F. Eickelman, "Religious Knowledge in Inner Qman," Journal
of Oman Studies 6 (1983), pp. 163-72.
37. John E. Peterson, "Arab Nationalism and the Idealist Politician: The
Career of Sulayman al-Baruni," in Law, Personalities, and Politics of the Middle
East: Essays in Honor of Majid Khadduri, ed. J. Piscatori and G.S. Harris
(Washington, DC: The Middle East Institute, 1988), pp. 31-50.
38. Anderson, op. cit., pp. 15-16.
39. United Nations General Assembly, 19th Session, The Question of Oman:
Report of the Ad Hoc Committee on Oman, A/5846, Annex no. 16, 22 January
1965.
40. Ibid., p. 65.
41. Times of Oman (Muscat), 17 December 1987, p. 5.
42. A'washt, op. cit.
43. Bowen, op. cit., pp. 242-57. See also Robert W. Hefner, "The Political
Economy of Islamic Conversion of Modem East Java," in Islam and the Political
EconomyofMeaning, ed. W.R. Roff(London: Croom Helm, 1987), pp. 53-78;
Trikoli N. Madan, "Secularism in Its Place," Journal of Asian Studies 6 (1987),
pp. 747-59; and Ananda F. Wood, Knowledge Before Printing and After: The
Indian Tradition in Changing Kerala (Delhi: Qxfurd University Press, 1985).
44. Eickelman, "Religion in Polity and Society," in The Political Economy
of Morocco, ed. I William Zartman (New York, Praeger, 1987), p. 91.
45. Yann Richard, L'islam chi'ite: Croyances et ideologies (Paris: Fayard,
1991); and personal communication, 1987.
14
The Book in the Islamic World:
A Selective Bibliography
Michael W. Albin
This bibliography aims to provide those interested in studies of the book in
the Islamic \\Orld with an introductory list of research up to 1990. It is being
issued on the occasion of the International Conference on the Book in the Islamic
World, held 8-9 November 1990, at the Library of Congress. Although the
field of Islamic book studies is of very recent vintage, there is a substantial
body of scholarship from as early as the 1940s on relevant topics. Scholars
from many countries, working independently, have contributed to this research.
Indeed, a comprehensive bibliography \\Ould be many times lal}l;er than the
current list. In order to orient the user to the material selected for inclusion,
the bibliography is divided into four broad categories: General works, including
classics of what has come to be called histoire du livre, as well as theoretical
works on writing, reading, and liteacy; The Manuscript Tradition, under which
heading are works concerned with the production and transmission of Islamic
piety and learning, and the book arts in the classical age; Print Culture, which
brings together research on the introduction of the printing press and congeries
of effects brought about by printed books and periodicals; and, finally, the Book
and Society, covering general works on the impact of books on the education
and intellectual life of Muslims during the past two centuries.
Although it may not seem proper to single out works for special note, certain
writings have become established as classics and must be consulted by specialists
in Islamic culture as well as scholars from other disciplines who need general
background on the book in Islam. The earliest of these may be F. Rosenthal's
The Technique and Approach of Muslim Scholarship (1947). T.F. Carter's The
Invention of Printing in China and Its Spread ~ s t w a r d (1955) has been quoted
and debated for what it has to say about the "barriers" to the printing press.
The works by Ibn Durustawayh (ed. 1977) and al-Suli (ed. 1922) represent a
larger body of guides for writers and clerks in the age befure printing. A.
Rac;lwiin's work (1953) on the BUlaq Press of Cairo is the first and most important
273
274 Albin
work to date on this famous press, and includes many documents affording
insights into life in the printshop. Last, but perhaps most important of all, is
the work that lay the foundation for Islamic book studies East and West, the
Fihrist of Ibn ai-Nadim, happily available to us in English translation, thanks
to Bayard Dodge.
By way of explanation and apology for the large section on printing history
let it be said that this is the result of the special interest of the compiler and
the rich holdings of the Library of Congress in this field. The study of the
history of the Islamic book being in its infuncy, each and every epoch and facet
of books, bookmaking, and book use is in need of further research. Of the
making of books about books there should be no end.
GENERAL
Aboussouan, Camille, ed. Exposition Le Livre et le Liban jusqu' a I900. Paris:
UNESCO, 1982. 408 pp.
Beeston, A.F.L. "The Evolution of the Arabic Language, the Arabic
Script. .. and the Arab Books." In Arabic Literature to the End of the
Umayyad Period, v. 1, pp. 1-26. London: Cambridge University Press,
1983. 547 pp.
Carter, Thomas Francis. The Invention of Printing in China and its Spread
l#!stward. 2nd ed. New York: The Ronald Press, 1955. 293 pp.
Chartier, Roger. "Frenchness in the History of the Book: From the History
of Publishing to the History of Reading." American Antiquarian Society
Proceedings 97 (1988), 2: 299-329.
Cole, John Y., ed. Books in Our Future: Perspectives and Proposals.
Washington, DC: The Library of Congress, 1987. 399 pp.
Einsenstein, Elizabeth L. The Printing Press as an Agent of Change. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1979. 2 vols. 784 pp.
Febvre, Lucien, and H.-J. Martin. The Coming of the Book: The Impact of
Printing, I450-I800. Trans. by David Gerard. London: N.L.B., 1976. 378 pp.
The Future of the Book. Pt. 1: The Impact of the New Technologies, ed. by
Priscilla Oakeshott and Clive Bradley; Pt. 2: The Changing Role of Reading,
by Michel Gault; Pt. 3: New Technologies in Book Distribution, by SKP
Associates for the Center for the Book, The Library of Congress. Paris:
UNESCO, 1982-84.
The Book in the Islamic World: A Selective Bibliography 275
Goody, Jack. The Logic of Writing and the Organiwtion of Society. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1986. 213 pp.
Graham, William A. Beyond the Written Word: Oral Aspects of Scripture in
the History of Religion. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987.
306 pp.
Gray, Basil, ed. The Arts of the Book in Central Asia, 14th-16th Centuries.
By Oleg Akumushkin, et al. Boulder, Colorado: Shambhala, 1979. 314 pp.
}:lamiidah, Mul;tammad Miihir. al-Kitiib al-'Arabi: makh(u(an mi-ma(bU'an.
Riyadh: Diir al-'Uliim, 1984. 315 pp.
Havelock, Eric A. The Muse Learns to U?ite: Reflections on Omlity and literacy
from Antiquity to the Present. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1986.
144 pp.
al-l:libshl, 'AbdAllah. al-Kitiib fi al-}Jaqarah al-Isliimiyah. Kuwait: Sharikat
al-Rabl'iin, 1982. 201 pp.
Ibn al-Nad
2
hm. The Fihrist of al-Nadim, a Tenth-Century Survey of Muslim
Culture. Ed. and trans. by Bayard Dodge. New York: Columbia University
Press, 1970. 2 vols.
Katib Kitiib kashf al-zunun 'an asiimi al-kutub wa-al-funun. Ed. by
Yaltkaya and Kilisli Rifat Bilge. Istanbul: Milli Egitim Basimevi,
1971. 2 vols.
Losty, Jeremiah P. The Art of the Book in India. London: The British Library,
1982. 160 pp.
Mackensen, Ruth S. Books and Libraries in the Omayyad Period."
American Journal of Semitic languages and Literatures 52 (1935-36):
245-53; 53 (1936-37): 239-50; 54 (1937): 41-61; 56 (1939): 149-57,
"Supplement Notes".
Ong, Walter. Interfaces of the Word: Studies in the Evolution of Consciousness
and Culture. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1977. 352 pp.
Pedersen, Johannes. The Arabic Book. Trans. by Geoffrey French. Princeton:
Princeton University Press, 1984. 175 pp.
La Refonne et le livre: L'Europe del 'imp rime (1517-v. 1570). Compiled by Jean-
Fran<;:ois Oilmont. Paris: Les Editions du Cerf, 1990. 531 pp.
276 Albin
Rosenthal, Franz. The Technique and Approach of Muslim Scholarship. Rome:
Pontificum lnstitutum Biblicum, 1947. 74 pp.
Tsien, Tsuen-Hsuin. utitten on Bamboo and Silk: The Beginnings of Chinese
Books and Inscriptions. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1962.
233 pp.
Thrk Kutuphaneciler Dernegi. Basim ve Yayinciligimiain 250, Yili Bilimsel
Toplantisi, 10-11 Aralik 1979, Ankara. Bildiriler. Ankara: TKD 1980.
Wassef, Amin Sami. L'/nformation et Ia presse officielle en Egypte jusqu 'a Ia
fin de I 'occupation Fraruraise. Recherches d'archeologie, de phililogie et
d'histoire, XVII. Cairo: Institut F r a n ~ i s dl\rcheologie Orientale du Caire,
1975. 180 pp.
THE MANUSCRIPT TRADITION
Abbott, Nabia. The Rise of the North Arabic Script and its Jr_ur'iinic
Development. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, Oriental Institute
Publication, 1939. 103 pp.
Arnold, Sir T.W., and A. Grohmann. The Islamic Book: A Contribution to its
Art and History from the VII-XVII Century. New York: Harcourt, Brace
and Co., 1929. 130 pp. and plates.
Bosch, Gulnar K., et al. Islamic Bindings & Bookmaking: A Catalogue of an
Exhibition, The Oriental Institute, The University of Chicago, May
18-August 18, 1981. Chicago: Oriental Institute, University of Chicago, 1981.
235 pp.
Diringer, David. The Illuminated Book, Its History and Production. New ed.
London: Faber, 1967. 514 pp.
Gratzl, E., K.A.C Creswell, and R. Ettinghausen. "Bibliographie des islam-
ischen Einbandkunst, 1871 bis 1956." In Ars Orienta/is II (1957): 519-40.
Huart, Clement. Les calligraphes et les miniaturistes de /'Orient musulman.
Reimpression of the 1908 edition. Osnabriick: Otto Zeller Verlag, 1972.
Ibn Durustawayh, 'Abdallah ibn Ja'far. Kitiib al-kuttiib. Ed. by Ibrahim al-
Samarrii'L Kuwait: Diir al-Kutub al-Thaqiifiyah, 1977. 161 pp.
Inayatullah, S. "Bibliophilism in Medieval Islam." Islamic Culture 12 (1938):
155-69.
James, David. Qur'iins of the Mamluks. New York: Thames & Hudson, 1988.
270 pp.
al-Khatib al-Baghdadi, Al)mad ibn 'Ali. Taqyfdal-'ilm. Ed. by YoussefEche.
Damascus: Dar Il,lya' al-Sunnah, 1975. 195 pp.
Levey, Martin. "Medieval Arabic Bookmaking and its Relations to Early
Chemistry and Pharmacology." Transactions of the American Philosophical
Society NS 52, no. 4 (1962): 3-79. (Includes translation of al-Sufyanfs
work.)
Lings, Martin. The quranic Art of Calligraphy and Illumination. London: World
of Islam Festival Trust, 1976. 242 pp.
Minorsky, V., ed. and trans. Calligraphers and Painters: A Treatise by Qadi
Ahmad, Son of Mir-Munshi. Washington, DC: Freer Gallery of Art, 1959.
al-Munajjid, Salal,l al-Din. Diriisiit ji tiirfkh al-khaf( al-'Arabf. Beirut: Da al-
Kitab al-Jadid, 1972. 151 pp.
al-Munajjid, Salah al-Din. al-Kitiib al-'Arabf al-makhtut ila al-qarn al-'iishir.
Cairo: League of Arab States, 1960.
Rice, D.S. The Unique Ibn al-Bawwiib Manuscript in the Chester Beatty library.
Dublin: E. Walker (Ireland), 1955. 36 pp.
Robinson, Basil W., ed. Islamic Painting and the Arts of the Book. London:
Faber and Faber, 1976. 322 pp.
Safadi, Yasin H. Islamic Calligraphy. London: Thames and Hudson, 1978. 144
pp.
Sarre, Friedrich Paul. Islamic Bookbindings. Trans. by F.D. O'Byrne. London:
Kegan Paul, 1923. 197 pp.
Schimmel, Annemarie. Calligraphy and Islamic Culture. New York: New York
University Press, 1984. 264 pp.
al-Sijistiini, 'Abdallah ibn al-Ash'ath. Kitiib al-ma:)iif)if. Cairo: Mu'assasat
Qurtubah, 1986. 223 pp.
al-Sufyani, Abii al-'Abbiis. "Sina'at tafsir al-kutub wa-l,lall al-dhahab." New
ed. by I. al-Samarra'i. Majallat al-Majma' al-'Ilmf al-'Iriiqf 8 (1961):
335-42.
278 Albin
al-Siili, Mul.tammad Ibn Yal:tya. Adab al-kuttiib. Ed. by M. Bahjat al-Atharl.
Baghdad: al-Maktabah al-'Arabiyah, 1922. 272 pp.
Zayn al-Din, Naji. Mw;awwar al-kharr al-'Arabi. Baghdad: al-Majma' al-'lriiqf,
1968. 410 pp.
Zayyat, H. "al-Wiraqah wa-al-warriiqiin." al-Mashriq 47 (1953): 305-50.
THE PRINT CULTURE
'Abduh, Ibrahim. Jaridat al-Ahriim. Cairo: Dar al-Ma'arif, 1951. 551 pp.
'Abduh, Ibrahim. 1798-1951. 3rd ed. Cairo:
Maktabat al-Adab bi-al-Jamamiz, 1951. 322 pp.
Abdulrazak, Fawzi. "The Kingdom of the Book: The History of Printing as
an Agent of Change in Morocco between 1865 and 1912." Ph.D. dissertation,
Boston University, 1989.
'Ad, Yiisuf. "Kayfiyat intaj al-kitab qabla al-qarn al-tasi' 'ashar." al-Masarrah
nos. 747-46 (March-April1988): 231-40; nos. 749-50 (May-June 1988):
330-40.
Albin, Michael W. "The Iranian Publishing Industry: A Preliminary Appraisal."
IJ.bri 36, no. 1 (1986): 1-23.
ALECSO. al-I.o.jnah al-jannfyah li-diriisat a/Jruf al-tibii'ah al-'Arabfyah. Cairo:
ALECSO, 1971. 173 pp.
'Asim, 'Ali l:lusayn. al-Tibii'ah al-/Jiidfthah. 6 vols. Cairo: al-Matabi' al-
Amiriyah, 1959-62.
Babinger, Franz. "Die Einfiihrung des Buchdruckes in Persien." Zeitschrift
des Deutschen Vereinsfo.r Buchwesen und Schrifttum 11-12 (1921): 141-42.
Bacel, Paul. "Abdallah Zaher et son imprimerie Arabe." Echos d'Orient 11
(1908): 281-87.
Balagna, Josee. L'1mprimerie arabe en Occident. Paris: Editions Maisonneuve
& Larose, 1984. 153 pp.
Baysal, Jale. Muteferrika 'dan Birinci Kadar Osmanli Turklerinin
Bastiklari Kitaplar. Istanbul: Edebiyat Fakultesi, 1968. 88 pp.
Bulliet, Richard V. "Medieval Arabic tarsh: A Forgotten Chapter in the History
of Printing." Journal of the American Oriental Society 107., no. 3 (July-
Sept. 1987): 427-38.
al-Bustani, Fu'ad Ifram. "al-Shammas 'Abdallah Zakhir." al-Masarrah (July
1948), special issue.
Chenoufi, Moncef. "Le Probleme des origines de l'imprimerie et de la presse
arabes en Tunisie dans sa relation avec la renaissance "Nahda" (1847-
1887)." Ph.D. dissertation, University de Lille III, 1974.
Demeerseman, A. "Les donnees de la controverse autour du probleme de
l'imprimerie." JBLA 17, nos. 65-66 (1954): 1-48, 113-40.
Demeerseman, A. "Une parente meconnue de l'imprimerie arabe et tunisienne:
La lithographie." IBLA 16 (1953): 347-88.
Floor, W.M. "The First Printing Press in Iran." Zeitschrift der Deutschen
Morgenliindischen Gesellschaft 130 (1980): 369-71.
Gdoura, Wahid. Le debut de l 'imprimerie arabe a Istanbul et en Syrie: Evolution
de l'environnement culture!, 1706-J7(Jl. Tunis: University de Tunis, Institut
superieur de documentation, 1985. 312 pp.
Gdoura, Wahid. "Le livre arabe imprime en Europe: Une etape importante
dans les relations Orient-Occident (1514-1700). Revue maghrebine de
documentation 1 (1983): 37-68.
Gen;:ek, Slim Niizhet. Turk matbaaciligi. Istanbul: al-Diya, 1928. Ill pp.
Groc, G., and I. Caglar. LLz presse Jmnc;aise de Turquie de 1795 a nos }ours:
Histoire et catalogue. Istanbul: ISIS, 1985.
Hamm, Roberto. Pour une typographie arabe: Contribution technique a Ia
democratisation de Ia culture ambe. Paris: Sindbad, 1975. 193 pp.
Hitti, P.K. "The First Book Printed in Arabic." Princeton University Library
Chronicle 4 (1942): 5-9.
Ihaddaden, Zahir. Histoire de Ia presse indigene en Algerie: Des origines
jusqu 'en 1930. Algiers: ENAL, 1983. 40 pp.
Ihsanoglu, Ekmeleddin. Ac;iklama!I Turk kimya eserleri bibliyografyast.
Istanbul: IRCICA, 1985. 148 pp.
280 Albin
Server. Turkiyede nesriyat hareketleri tarhinine bir Istanbul: Devlet
Bas1mevi, 1939. 484 pp.
Kabacali, Alpay. Turk kitap tarihi. Istanbul: Cern Yayinevi, 1989. 158 pp.
al-Kattanl, Zayn al-'Abidln. al-Si}Jiifah al-Maghribiyah nasha'tuhq wa-
tatawwuruhii, 1820-1966. 1970? 249 pp.
KhaHfah, Sha'ban. /farakiit nashr al-kutub ft Mi$r. Cairo: Dar al-Thaqafah,
1974.
Krek, Miroslav. "The Enigma of the First Arabic Printed Book from Movable
Type." Journal of Near Eastern Studies 38, no. 3 (July 1979): 203-12.
Krek, Miroslav. A Gazetteer of Arabic Printing. Weston, MA: The Author,
1977. 138 pp.
"Matba'a." Encyclopedia of Islam. New edition. Vol. 4, pp. 794-807.
Meynet, Roland. L 'Ecriture arabe en question: Les pro jets de l :4cademie de
Langue Arabe du Caire de 1938 a 1968. Beirut: Dar al-Mashriq, 1971. 142
pp.
Nasrallah, Joseph. L'1mprimerie au Liban. Troisieme conference generale de
!'UNESCO. Beirut: Sous Ia patronage de Ia Commission Libanaise du Mois
de !'UNESCO, Novembre-Decembre 1948. 160 pp.
Nuovo, Angela. "II Corano Arabo ritrovato." La Bibliofilia 89, no. 3 (Sept-
Dec. 1987): 247-71.
Raqwan, Abii al-Futiil:l. Tiirikh Ma(ba'at BUliiq. Cairo: al-Matba'ah al-
Ami:rlyah, 1953. 523 pp.
Ra'ln, Isma'n. Avvalin chiipkhiinah-i lriin. Tehran: Intisharat-i Riiznamah-i
"Alik," 1969. 27 pp.
al-Rifa'l, Shams al-Dln. Tiirikh al-$i/Jiifah al-Suriyah. Cairo: Dar al-Ma'arif,
1969. 2 vols.
Sabat, Khalil. Tiirikh al-(ibii'ah ft al-Sharq al-'Arabi. 2nd ed. Cairo: Dar al-
Ma'arif, 1966. 378 pp.
Sarkis, Salim. Gharii'ib al-Maktubji. Cairo: al-Mushlr, 1896.
Sarkis, Yiisuf I. Mu'jam al-matbu'iit al-'Arabiyah wa-al-mu'arrabah. Cairo:
Matba'at Sarkis, 1928. 2,024 cols. plus indexes.
Stewart, Charles C. "A New Source on the Book Market in Morocco in 1930
and Islamic in West Africa." Hesperis-Tamdua 11 (1970): 209-46.
Weisweller, Max. Der islamische Bucheinband des Mittelalters. Weisbaden:
Harrassowitz, 1962. 193 pp.
THE BOOK AND SOCIETY
'Abd al-Karim, Al)mad 'Izzat. Tiirikh al-ta'limjf 'asr Mu}Jammad 'Ali. Cairo:
al-Nah<;lah, 1938. 798 pp.
Arasteh, Reza. Education and Social Awakening in Iran, I850-I968. 2nd ed.
Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1969. 237 pp.
Berkes, Niyazi. The Development of Secularism in Turkey. Montreal: McGill
Buheiry, Marwan R., ed. Intellectual Life in the Arab East, I890-I939. Beirut:
American University of Beirut, 1981. 192 pp.
Davison, Roderic H. Reform in the Ottoman Empire, 1856-1876. Princeton:
Princeton University Press, 1963. 479 pp.
Dodge, Bayard. Muslim Education in Medieval Times. Washington, DC: Middle
East Institute, 1962.
Eche, Youssef. Les bibliotheques arabes publiques et semi-publiques en
Mesopotamie, en Syrie et en Egypte au Moyen Age. Damascus: Institut
Franyais de Damas, 1967. 44 7 pp.
Heyworth-Dunne, J. An Introduction to the History of Education in Modern
Egypt. London: Luzac, 1938. 503 pp.
Hourani, Albert. Arabic Thought in the Liberal Age, 1798-1939. London: Oxford
Szyliowicz, Joseph S. Education and Modernization in the Middle East. Ithaca:
Cornell University Press, 1973. 477 pp.
Appendix:
Ottoman Imperial Documents
Relating to the History of Books
and Printing
A COPY OF A DECREE ISSUED BY
HIS IMPERIAL MAJESTY THE PADISHAH MURAD HAN*
Be it hereby known to all governors, sea captains, judges, and other officials
stationed in the Imperial domain that two European merchants by the name
of Anton and Orasyu [Horatio] Bandini, being bearers of Imperial permission
to conduct trade, are buying and selling and doing business by importing certain
goods and valuable printed books and pamphlets in Arabic, Persian, and Thrkish.
Some persons are opening up their shipments by force, and with little or no
payment at all are taking their wares and interfering with their trade. It is
therefore directed that the said merchants and their agents and employees be
allowed to carry on their business in safety and that their merchandise be not
seized, and that whosoever disobeys this decree of mine be reported immediately.
It is also ordered that their books and goods be purchased in return for the
payment of the correct price and that there should no longer be any complaints
in this matter. Written in Constantinople on the first of Zilhicce in the year
of the Hijrah 996.
*The Firman (Royal decree) of Sultan Murad III given in October 1588, which allowed
European merchants to import books printed in the Arabic script.
283
284 The &ok in the Islamic Ubrld
AS IT BECOMES NECESSARY IT WILL BE ACCOMPLISHED
(A COPY OF THE IMPERIAL RESCRIPT, A COPY OF THE NOBLE IMPERIAL ORDER)*
This exalted royal order is given to that pinnacle of illustrious persons and
notables, the official of the Grand Vezir, Sait, and to that educated select servant
of the Palace, i:brahim, may his nobility increase. It is known that upon the
establishment of the rising sun of the religion of Muhammad and that with the
brightness of the dawn of Ahmed's religious community, may God bless him,
and it is understood that since that time the enlightened and meritorious masters
of religion, God bless them, wrote books and tracts of science and knowledge
in order to protect and conserve the verses of the Koran, the traditions of the
Prophet, and the entirety of knowledge. And these \\Urds served to maintain
the good order of the people, and make known the laws of religion and state,
and the organization of the state and community. Editing books and writings
and collecting eloquent collections of poetry, they progressed and wrote histories
and accounts and worked for the preservation and defense of knowledge and
works of culture, facilitating and disseminating sciences and arts. People
knowledgeable in Arabic and Persian profited from their explaining and teaching,
and organizing the regulations for each of the particular sciences and disciplines.
This being proper, in order that they would possess eternal happiness in this
world and the next and gain a good reward, they did not cease writing valuable
and knowledgeable books and tracts. However, with the passing of days and
with the years going by as the Chingizids, created chaotic disturbances and
Hulagu rose to power, and with resplendent Andalusia in the hands of the
Europeans, and with the convulsions of wars, killing, and destruction, most
literary works have disappeared with their authors. TherefOre, today in the
Muslim lands the dictionaries of Cevheri and Van Kulu in the Arabic language,
and books of history and, copies of scientific \\Urks which were burned are
rare. Also, people did not give proper care and attention, and lacked concern
about copying, so works were not carefully copied. These rare books are an
inspiration to students of the arts and sciences and to seekers af knowledge.
Among the technical processes, printing is like coining money and
impressing paper with a signet ring. Books produced by printing cause several
thousand volumes to be produced from a single volume, all of which are accurate
copies. With little effort there is great return, making this a desirable activity
to pursue. By virtue of your having composed a learned tract about, and having
expertise in, the various above-mentioned activities, you will see to the
necessities and expenditures without loss of time, so that on a fortunate day
*The Firman of Ahmed III, given in 1139/1727, authorizing Sait Efendi and ibrahim
Miiteferrika to open a printing house using Arabic script. Authorization was limited
to books on practical, that is, secular subjects and excluded those dealing with Islamic
sciences.
Appendix: Ottoman Imperial Documents 285
this Western technique will be unveiled like a bride and will not again be hidden.
It will be a reason for Muslims to say prayers for you and praise you to the
end of time. Excepting books of religious law, Koranic exegesis, the traditions
of the Prophet, and theology, you asked the Padishah's permission in the
aforementioned tract to print dictionaries, history books, medical books,
astronomy and geography books, travelogues, and books about logic. The
aforementioned tract was referred to that very learned religious scholar, that
most meritoriously pious mariner on the stormy sea of religious questions, that
wellspring ~ f the river of legal opinions, that wearer of the garment of piety,
the $eyh-ul-Islam and learned jurisconsult, Mevlana Abdullah, may Almighty
God increase his goodness. The question was asked: Zeyd claiming expertise
in the science of printing, illuminating, and producing copies of the letters and
words of dictionaries, logic, philosophy, and astronomy texts, and like works,
thus being able to produce exact copies of these books, is there not permission
in the Holy Law for this good work? The one who is an expert at printing seeks
a legal opinion because producing an accurate edition of a work in a short time,
with no errors and many copies, results in there being an increased number
of books, which is a benefit to the community. The answer is: Being able to
produce this great benefit, this person receives permission with the condition
that several educated persons be appointed as proof readers. Great benefit will
come from the order based on that legal opinion, allowing for the exception
of the religious subjects mentioned in the tract written with the pearl pen of
wisdom. This legal opinion is well prepared and it stands out in a vast ocean
as exemplary in the $eyh's career. What falls from his pen in the form of
authoritative opinion is an overflowing garden, a basin of sweet water, a river
which waters the desert with springs. The Imperial permission becomes proper
on account of this well-explained authoritative declaration, this perfectly elo-
quent and noble opinion. Copies will be printed of dictionaries, and books about
logic, astronomy and similar subjects, and so that the printed books will be
free from printing mistakes, the wise, respected and meritorious religious scholar
specializing in Islamic Law, the excellent Kazi oflstanbul, Mev lana ishak, and
Selaniki's Kazi, Mevlana Sahib, and Ghalata's Kazi, Mevlana Asad, may their
merits be increased, and from the illustrious religious orders, the pillar of the
righteous religious scholars, the $eyh of the Kasim P a ~ a Mevlevihane, Mev lana
Musa, may his wisdom and knowledge increase, will oversee the proofreading.
With the actual setting up of the press, the above-mentioned books in history,
astronomy, geography, logic and so forth, after they pass the review of the
learned scholars, shall become numerous. However, you will take special care
to see that the copies remain free from error and depend on the noble learned
men for this. Ordered in the middle of Zulka' de in the year 1139 in Istanbul
the protected.
286 The Book in the Islamic Ubrld
IN THE NAME OF GOD, THE MERCIFUL AND COMPASSIONATE, AND BY THAT SEEK
GOD'S AID, THE TRACT ENTITLED, "THE USEFULNESS OF PRINTING"*
It is known that it is the inevitable will of God and sovereign divine decree
that a community, a society, a people, or an individual, having a desire [to
fulfill], becomes successful, blessed, and distinguished if the ruler assents. It
is the will of God to arrange everything for the benefit of His servants, who
are people of perfect faith, who, by means of His perfect beneficence, unveil
the bride of His kindness and expose His hidden desires. This humble,
ineloquent person of low endowment, who has need of Almighty God's mercy,
in order to become educated, some years ago sought a degree of clear under-
standing of the glory of ancient peoples and the adventures of the children of
Adam. I read a number of histories of ancient nations and works of various
religious men; like an ant I industriously studied, but achieved only a poor
understanding. There came to me a sudden, clear inspiration, that there are
means and instruments that societies and groups of people could use for
benefiting the organization of important human matters and for the glory and
power of the empire and the state by which the various ancient states mentioned
above became well-ordered, powerful, and enlightened, and preserved and
perpetuated their religions. And in countries without law or order there was
brought into existence order, intelligence, merit, and right guidance. They [the
ancients] did not pause for one second in making inventions, artifices, and
praiseworthy works. Certainly, modern men follow the path of the ancients;
at present in many a state and nation, various educated scholars are producing
laws and organizing state and society. This is a means of perpetuating the state
organization and of preserving the history of the state and society. It is a means
of protection, and a defense against change and alteration on account of
falsehoods or untruths according to religion and morals, and a way of creating
safety from sudden catastrophes and the changes arising in the poor memory
of men caused by the passing of days and years, thus enabling the laws and
ordinances of the state and society to be kept correctly, as if they were a compact
inscribed in stone, copper, or iron. They have made many books in order to
create a means to knowledge and education by open discussion, and they have
made an easy road to invention and innovation. If this point is studied intensely,
with the aim of one's becoming learned in the goodness of religion and the
merits of states, then these books, written as if on a tablet created by strength
and purpose from emerald, ruby, gold, and silver, are a means for the religion
and state of Islam to continue the glory of the state and the good ordering of
* The essay ~ furahim Miiteferrika entitled Vesiletu-t Tibaa, on the usefulness of printing,
in which he exposes the losses incurred by Islamic learning from the absence of the
art of printing and the great benefits its establishment would bring to Muslims in general
and Ottomans in particular.
the important affairs of the community. Books are also a tool for perfecting
the nation and the state, a method of increasing the majesty of the empire, and
of becoming the protector and preserver, until the last day, of arts and sciences
and recorded events from the miscalculations of man. And these writings create
a solidarity in the community against factions and disorder, and the laws and
regulations preserve the good order of the community from change and
innovation. Without need for further explanation, it suddenly became very plain
that as an aid and help to the general public, the path to follow was to make
an effort to publish in the \\Urld, in large numbers, books on the necessary
arts and sciences, books that are sound and accurate and in every wrzy acceptable.
This [printing of books] is a noble profession and beautiful calling. In order
to become free from public and private questioning, and in order for him to
become responsible for the completion of this important work, and so that it
is clear that he is on a true, straight road in this work, a royal indication and
command to this servant is necessary.
An Explanation of the Benefits of Printing Books
Being interested in the h i s t o ~ y of ancient nations, it is not obscured or veiled
from the eyes that the Beni Israil, in accordance with the commands of their
scriptures, have gained distinction through their preserving of the holy Torah,
the preservation and conservation of the scriptures of "the protected peoples"
being necessary. For fear of their being miscopied by passing through the hands
of numerous copyists, they did not seek to publish widely their religious books
and the Torah. The destructive war of Nebuchadnezzar occurred because of
their sinfulness in Jerusalem. By this evil fortune of the Beni israil, Jerusalem
was completely conquered, the Ark of the Covenant destroyed, and the copies
of the Torah and important books gathered by the people in their homes were
thrown into the fire. Therefore, most of the books were lost to posterity. The
commands of the Holy Law were the means of education for the Beni israil,
but the true copies and unreliable transmissions thereof became indistinguishable,
and the people fell under the authority and leadership of Jesus. When the
Christians collected the verses of the noble Gospels, they were heedless of their
benefits, and were careless and lazy about preserving them and did not think
intelligently about publishing this knowledge among the people. When sainted
Jesus, God praise that most illustrious prophet, was taken up to the precincts
of heaven, the Christians, falling to quarreling about dogma, splitting into many
factions, became followers of false paths and ways of unbelief. Valuing the
majesty of the Islamic state and the revealed law of the Prophet, may God
strengthen, exalt, and glorify him until the day of judgment, the elders oflslam
were not heedless of this abyss of horrors nor were they confused about this
source of peril. They shunned and avoided this degree of laziness. With the
manifestation of the Koran in great glory, the elders took care that every word
288 The Book in the Islamic World
of the proclaimed Holy Law, every document or page which had been collected
and written down, especially the traditions ofthe Prophet (that sublime path),
they made sure that these original texts and the names of their transmitters were
collected and organized into books and collections of wisdom. In this matter
they desired to copy and write down without defect their remembrances and
the acquired knowledge of the Muslims, preserving it in its details and generality,
and they wished to disseminate it and make it available to the general Muslim
public. This dissemination was a blessing to the entire community. However,
with this community being continuously busy with jihad to the East and West,
in a short time the majority of Muslims were confused about the splendid
miracles, blessed events, and meritorious, blessed prayers. Learned religious
leaders, perfect teachers, and the wisest interpreters of law and religious
questions, using the Koran, the traditions, and the consensus of the community,
and applying the methodology of analogy, they expended much energy bringing
to light accurate interpretations and a sound methodology of interpretation in
order to correct false practices and to achieve good. Religious scholars did not
cease writing books on various sciences and arts or educating and sending forth
students in order to guide the affairs of the people of the community. They
produced innovative works, and they knew the blessings of paradise because
of the benefit and merit they brought to themselves and their community by
this splendid effort. They enabled the struggle for righteousness to continue
in this community from its beginning and until the last day. Both the earliest
and the latest scholars produced books and compilations which were collected
together, but later they were destroyed by war and violence, especially during
the evil time of violent confusion caused by the tribulations of the Chingizids
when the books of Central Asia were thrown into the Jayhun, leaving no trace
behind. When HuHigu conquered the Abbasids, the books and compositions
of the scholars and writers were dumped in the Tigris and their writings washed
away, and thus beautiful and intelligent works vanished without leaving a trace.
Later, after a long period of the tribulations of this world, the country of
Andalusia WtlS torn from the arms of Islam. In the Maghrib, the sun of science
set in the oppressive darkness of the Europeans. In former times, the Umayyads
conquered the Frankish factions in Andalusia, and by several paths came to
great wealth, and they produced many Islamic books. However, now, in the
lands of Islam, it is a fact that these books are rare and only a handful remain;
throughout all the Islamic domain these books are rare. In the same manner
as mentioned above, disturbed conditions, destructive events, and destroying
fires each became a terrible malady fur books, causing students of the sciences
to suffer severe difficulties. The men of the current age, being followers of
ease and being exhausted, and having debilitating wealth and ease, ignore beauty;
consequently, innovative works are not appreciated or preserved. On one hand,
the attitude toward the importance of many works, and of books generally, is
laziness and heedlessness, and to a degree learning is despised, so that in this
happy place, this mighty city, this vast country, may God preserve it from
calamities and evil fortune, in the entire Ottoman domains, dictionaries, like
Cevheri and Van Kulu in the Arabic language, and the necessary copies of books
on history and biography, and works and volumes on like subjects that are
important, are scarce and rare. It goes without saying that these books are
brimming with information.
An Explanatory Summation About Printing
Among the arts, the art of printing is a beneficial one; among productive
activities, printing is one full of benefits. Printing is a type of inscribing
analogous to the action of engraving and writing by the pressing of words and
lines on a page, it is like coining money or inscribing walls, or like the
impression from a signet ring when pressed down upon a document.
The first benefit among the benefits of printing: This beneficial and
innovative art is a clear explainer of the source and wellspring of all the sources,
and is an answer to the needs of the people for Islamic books. In order to master
Arabic, accurate and comprehensive dictionaries are important. Furthermore,
if there are numerous books on history, astronomy, logic, the affairs of the state
and nation, and geography, this altogether will create tremendous educational
benefits.
The second benefit: From the first appearance of the religion and empire
of Islam, in order to well and properly organize and strengthen religion, state,
and the important affairs of the community, numbers of interpreters and
compilers of nobility and intelligence made compilations and wrote books using
the tool of interpretation. The work of the noble compilers and interpreters
will become a means of renewal and restoration, because newly printed books,
both numerous and accurate, being restored and invigorated as if they had been
recently authored, will publish and present to the Muslims all the knowledge
of their authors.
The third benefit: With books produced by the art of printing, it is possible
to make beautiful calligraphy and splendid specimens of correct composition,
eloquent expression, accurate arrangement, and excellent diction, without any
mistakes, flaws, or errors. Students of the sciences, in studying and examining
such books, are safe from mistakes and are secure from wasting time, because
for teaching and learning, accurate texts are a necessity. It becomes unnecessary
to compare many texts in order to obtain a correct understanding, and this
facilitates learning in the sciences. A peculiarity of books written by pen is
that the ink fades due to dampness and drying, and the writing disappears.
However, using the methods of printing, its products' ink becomes stable and
enduring, and the illustrations and text are not spoiled by water and dampness;
they are safe and secure from the misfortune of becoming wet.
The fourth benefit: That printed works become items of commerce is
another beneficial result. When a book is printed, there are several thousand
exactly identical copies, and printing is a means of producing many clear,
excellent, perfect books in a short time. Therefore, books become inexpensive,
and students both rich and poor can obtain books and acquire a proper education
in the desirable sciences and diplomas in religious studies.
The fifth benefit: With printing, the indexes and tables of contents of books
can be made both by summary and in detail. The summary will appear at the
beginning of the book, the detailed listing at the end. In the beginning of the
books, by means of Indian numerals, will be indicated the proper place of the
chapters and sections, thereby organizing the contents of the book so that the
sections and chapters are indicated. If it is necessary to refer to the book, its
contents and organization are immediately accessible. The second index allows
the terms and words used in the book to be found instantly. This index will
be placed at the end of the book. This index is to be organized alphabetically
and the sought-after information found by this method has its place in the book
indicated.
The sixth benefit: With the price of books becoming low, every single person
can possess books, and furthermore, the widespread dissemination of books
in town and country serves as a means of reducing ignorance.
The seventh benefit: By becoming numerous through the printing process,
books become a foundation for the strength of the empire. Spreading throughout
the Ottoman domains, the books of noble and desired sciences will become
numerous in the cities and towns, and the libraries will become full of books.
Furthermore, this country's students will become better educated, and the
outlying regions will become more settled and better organized on account of
having more books.
The eighth benefit: In the Islamic world the divine duty of jihad has not
been abandoned and the warriors are firm. The illustrious Ottoman state, may
God preserve it until judgement day, possesses thunderous canons, fierce
incendiaries, powerful muskets, and in the activities of the science of war is
like the various European masters and its enemies do not pose a difficulty. In
the activity of jihad the kings from the Ottoman house, may God support them
to the day of judgment, are the leaders and most perfect examples for the
Muslims. Because they have attained the perfection of glory and fame among
Muslims due to their waging jihad, they will enliven and invigomte the Muslims,
and are exalted on account of this. However, it is more worthy to assent to
printing, that being a Wlrf to make many books exist in the shadow of their
royal happiness.
The ninth benefit: All the Christian countries, in making collections in
Arabic, Persian, and Turkish, found these books valuable. The aforementioned
books, upon being printed, became important and particularly desirable; Jaw,
medicine, Euclidean geometry, and other such works were printed in the three
languages, and the quality of the books thus produced can clearly be seen. They
are full of misspellings and mistakes, and the letters and lines are not easily
read. There is no one, finding in his hands a book in Western letters and style,
who will see in it any semblance of beauty and decoration or correctness in
spelling and orthography. These books are being found in the lands of Islam,
having been produced in quantity, and they have become desirable, and are
inexpensive. However, their quality and finish is as given above. Those buying
and selling books in the Islamic countries are gathering and collecting a benefit,
while the Muslims are lower than the unbelievers and polytheists who are taking
precedence. In this particular matter, that is, working to make the Muslims
take precedence in the book trade, there is a necessary incumbent responsibility,
and this gives life to the hope of being allowed to print books.
The tenth benefit: The particularities of this beneficial art's present
establishment in the Ottoman state, as mentioned several times in thorough
speech and writing, giving an accurate and certain knowledge to all that this
is a most useful and beneficial activity, are such that because of its merits several
people have become hopeful of establishing this activity and have made appli-
cations to do so. If the discussed activity is a desirable activity, but because
of many problems is difficult to accomplish, and if on the verge of its occurring
a happy fortune does not appear and there is truly delay, the source and reason
for these problems exist in the preparation. At the time of consenting by royal
order to the completion of this matter, for the strengthening of science, the
lord of the fortunate conjunction and of the age, the conqueror of nations of
Iran and Turan, the glorious, the noble, the powerful Emperor of the world,
may God exalt and strengthen him, with His Majesty's support your servant
will overcome doubt and solve the difficulties with God's help, and this Western
activity become visible where it was fOrmerly invisible. This art's introduction
being arranged, and its appearing on a propitious day because of the Imperial
assent, it will cause a glorious exaltation of fortune and unceasing joy. Books,
like those mentioned above, coming into being in the Ottoman domains,
completely aside from their meeting the needs of the Muslims, is an important
event in itself, ennobling Islam and being a means to happiness of the Muslims.
The various peoples of the world, that is, the Arabs and foreigners, the people
of the Turks, Tatars and Turkmen, Kurds, Uzbeks, Chagatay, Hindi and Sindi,
Persians and Maghribis, Yemenis, Greeks, Ethiopians and the Sudanese, all
together having been exalted by Islam, they have need of various kinds of books.
Therefore, introducing and bringing about this important and great work
certainly increases and augments the glory and majesty of the Ottoman state,
and is the cause of a glorious victory for the Empire and a splendid preface
and a glorious superscription, lasting until the day of judgment. It will be
remembered with goodness by the tongues of the world and will bring forth
the good prayers of all believers; without dispute, printing is a means to enliven
and make happy the Muslims.
Except for those on law, exegesis, traditions, and theology, books will be
printed, such as dictionaries, histories, medical texts and science books,
philosophy and astronomy books, and information about nature, geography,
and travelogues. By its grace and majesty, publication of the glorious royal
rescript giving royal permission in this matter from the exalted world-renowned
Emperor, defender of the faith's exalted position, is fitting. His support, through
his glorious name, for establishing this innovative Western technique in order
to produce abundant numbers of books, is an excellent work, making his honor
independent of the need of proof. The majestic legal concurrence comprising
the Imperial rescript and the legal opinion of the religious authorities is
necessary; therefOre, this noble and majestic command will be printed at the
beginning of the book to be published and will be independent of the text of
the book, making it apparent to one and all that printing is desirable and
approved. Furthtrmore, his excellency, the !jeyh-ul-islam, that excellent juris-
consult and master of the masters of religion, his approval of this beneficial
activity, this source of benefits, and his approval of this great endeavor, this
noble striving, and of its being the cause for benefits to one and all, will also
be published. In setting about this activity, the pronouncement of royal
permission, the indication of noble support from the leaders of the religious
scholars, and the other self-apparent merits of printing indicate that in every
way printing confOrms to the Holy Law. Furthermore, with the pronouncement
and statement of support being placed in the beginning of every copy, the doubts
of all people will be erased. When the book is printed, in order to be accurate
and free of any defect or mistake in respect to the perfection of its composition
and language, by our own consent, three or four persons will be employed as
proofreaders, with their appointment being included in the royal order which
is to be printed in the beginning of the first book from the press; this will act
as an assurance to the people. Finally, by way of introduction, a brief summary
of the merits and benefits of printing will be presented in a clear, two or three
page tract in order to inform the community. All will then become cognizant
and all the world will offer her their blessings and prayers.
Translated by
Christopher M. Murphy
Contributors
MICHAEL W. ALBIN is chief of the Order Division at the Library of
Congress. From 1976 unti11985, he directed the Library's field office in Cairo,
Egypt. His area of scholarly interest is the history of printing in the Islamic
World. He is the author of numerous articles on this subject and has been
awarded a Fulbright Islamic Civilization grant to pursue research in the archives
and libraries of Iraq and Tunisia.
GEORGE N. ATIYEH has been head of the Near East Section at the Library
of Congress since 1967. He was educated at the American University of Beirut
and the University of Chicago. Before joining the Library, he taught at the
University of Puerto Rico and chaired its Department of Humanities. He has
authored and edited several books and articles, among which are al-Kindi: The
Philosopher of the Arabs, The Contemporary Middle East, 1948-1973: A
Bibliography, and Arab Civilization: Challenges and Responses.
RAMZI BAALBAKI is an associate professor of Arabic and director of the
Center for Middle Eastern Studies at the American University of Beirut. He
is a specialist in Semitic languages and the author of several works on Arabic,
including Semitic Arabic T#iting: Studies in the History ofl#iting and its Semitic
Roots.
JACQUES BERQUE is one of the leading French scholars on the Arab world.
He has taught and lectured in many Arab countries and at the prestigious College
de France, of which he is an honorary professor. He is the author of more than
forty books and articles. His book, Les Arabes d 'hier a demain, was translated
into several languages. He is considered one of the top authorities on North
Africa. Professor Berque has recently published a new translation of the Koran
into French.
FILIZ <;:AGMAN is curator of the Topkapi Palace Museum Library. She is
a well-known scholar of Islamic art and author of several studies, including
Topkapi Saray Museum: Islamic Miniature Art and Etudes Medievales et
Patrimonie Turc.
DALE F. EICKELMAN is Ralph and Richard Lazarus Professor of Anthro-
pology and Human Relations at Dartmouth College. Since 1968, he has spent
over six years in the Middle East, including time devoted to extensive field
research in Morocco and the Sultanate of Oman, with shorter stays in Egypt,
293
Iran, Iraq, and Tunisia. His publications include Moroccan Islam (Arabic
translation, 1989); The Middle East: An Anthropological Approach (Japanese
translation, 1988); Knowledge and Power in Morocco; and numerous scholarly
articles and contributions to edited books. Currently, he is completing a study
on changing perceptions of state authority and religious legitimacy in the Arab
Gulf. He was president of the Middle East Studies Association of North
America.
WAD AD AL-QAI;>I is professor of History at the University of Chicago, and
taught previously at Yale University and the American University of Beirut.
She is the author of a work on the Kisanlyah movement in history and literature,
and the editor of Diriisiit 'Ambfyah wa-lsliimfyah, a festschrift in honor of Dr.
ll:tsan 'Abbas. She was awarded the 1993 King Faisal prize for literature.
DAVID A. KING is professor of History of Science at the Institut fiir
Geschichte der Naturwissenschaften, Johann Wolfgang Goethe Universitat. He
also occupied the same position at New York University. Dr. King is the author
of numerous studies on the history of Arabic and Islamic science, and is the
compiler of a catalog of scientific manuscripts in the Egyptian National Library.
MUHSIN MAHDI is the Jewett Professor of Arabic Studies at Harvard
University. A leading scholar in this country, he is the author, translator, and
editor of several philosophical works on Arabic and Islamic philosophy. Among
his many works are Ibn Khaldun 's Philosophy of History and The Political
Orientation of Islamic Philosophy. He also edited Medieval Political Philosophy:
A Sourcebook, and The Thousand and One Nights, contributing to this edition
a thorough and scholarly introduction based on the early Arabic, original
sources.
- -
SALAI:I AL-DIN AL-MUNAJJID is a well-known scholar in the Arab world,
and the author and editor of more than one hundred works. Formerly, he was
a counselor at the League of Arab States, in charge of the Institute of Arabic
Manuscripts, and the founder of its journal. He is also a member of the
prestigious Academy of the Arabic Language in Cairo, and the Arab Academy
of Damascus.
SEYYED HOSSEIN NASR is University Professor of Islamic Studies at
George Washington University, in Washington, DC. Previously, he was professor
of History of Science and Philosophy and Dean of the Faculty of Letters at
Teheran University. He was also a visiting professor at Harvard University and
professor oflslamic Studies at Temple University. Among his many works are
Three Muslim Sages, Ideals and Realities of Islam, Science and Civilization
in Islam, and An Introduction to Islamic Cosmological Doctrines.
GEOFFREY J. ROPER has been Islamic Bibliographer at Cambridge
University Library and editor of Index lslamicus and Quarterly Index lslamicus
Contributors 295
since 1982. He holds an honours degree in Middle Eastern Studies from the
University of Durham and a doctorate from the same university. He has carried
out research on Arabic historical bibliography, including a major study of Arabic
printing and publishing in nineteenth-century Malta, as well as a number of
published articles and reviews.
FRANZ ROSENTHAL was Sterling Professor of Near Eastern Languages at
Yale University from 1967 until 1985, when he became professor emeritus.
Previously, he had taught at Hebrew Union College and the University of
Pennsylvania. Among his publications are Technique and Approach of Muslim
Scholarship, History of Muslim Historiogmphy, The Muslim Concept of Freedom,
and a masterful translation into English of Ibn Khaldiin's Muqaddimah.
ANNEMARIE SCHIMMEL was professor of Indo-Muslim Culture at Harvard
University. She is the author of more than fifty 'M>rks in German and English.
Among her 'M>rks are As Through the Veil: Mystical Poetry in Islam, Calligraphy
and Islamic Culture, Mystical Dimensions of Islam, Islam in the Indian
Subcontinent, and Islamic Names.
PRISCILLA SoUCEK is Hagop Kevorkian Professor of Islamic Art at the
Institute of Art, New York University. She co-authored The Meeting of Two
Worlds: The Crusades and the Meditermnean Context, and edited Content and
Context of Visual Arts in the World: Papers from a Colloquium in Memory of
Richard Ettinghausen.
------------------ ---
Index
'Abd al-'Aziz al-Wafa'I, 158
'Abd al-Ghafrr ibn Isma'Il al-Farisi,
108
'Abd al-Jabbiir al-Khawlani, 107
'Abd Allah ibn Abi lsl:Jaq, 125
'Abd Allah ibn a!-'Abbas, 44, 45, 142
'Abd Allah ibn sa'Id ibn 142
'Abd al-Ral:Jman Jami, see Jami
'Abd al-Razzaq Kashani, 62
'Abd al-Salam ibn 'Abd al-Wahhab, 51
'Abd al-I:Iamid the Second, 241
'Abdallah Marvarfd, 198
'Abdul Ja!Il Bilgrami, 82
Abdulrazak, Fawzi, 14
'Abd-ul-Wahhiib Mashhadi,
201
'Abidah al-Salmani, 41
Abii al-'Arab Tamim, 107, 108
Abii Al-Aswad al-Du'ali, 124
Abii al-Barakat al-Baghdadi, 35
Abii al-Fida, 174
Abii al-I:Iasan a!-' Amiri, 59, 66
Abii al-I:Iasan Jilwah, 60
Abii al-'lyal ai-Hudhaii, 22
Abii al-Khaniib al-Akhfash al-Kabir,
126
Abii 'Amr ibn al-'Ala', 126
Abii Bakr, caliph, 142
Abii bakr al-Marriidhi (al-Marwazi), 39
Abii I:Ianifah, 21
Abii I:Iatim ai-Sijistani, 95
Abii I:Iayyan al-Tawl:Jidi, 40, 41, 43, 44
Abii Hila! al-'Askari, 96
Abii lsl:Jaq al-Shirazi, 95, 102
Abii al-Tha'alibi, 108
Abii Mikhnaf, 97
Abii Nu'aym 41, 95, Ill
Abii Qilabah, 41
Abii Sa'Id al-Sirafi, 40, 41
Abii Sulaymiin al-Sijistani,
95
Abii Talib Kaiim, 73, 78, 84
Abii Tammam, 44
Abii Zi'bil Press, 245
al-Al:Jdab, Ibrahim, 240
Abmad al-Babi al-l:lalabi, 247
Abmad Amin, 247
Al:Jmad ibn lsma'Il ibn Abi al-Su'iid,
42
Al:Jmad al-Sayyid, 247
A_hmed III, 284
A'ishah, 146
Akbar, 75
Akhsikati, 81
Alexandria, 241
'Ali, 125
'Ali 'Abd al-Riiziq, 248
'Ali ibn Abr Talib, 142
'Ali Khan, 71
'Ali Mashhadi, 199
'Ali Shir Nava'I, 196, 197, 202
alif, 77, 85
Alwan, Mohammed, 214
American Press of Beirut, 237, 242
American missionaries, 237, 238
American University of Beirut, 239
Amir Khusrau Dihlawi, 78-80, 188
Andalusia, 284, 288
Anderson, Benedict R., 260
Anvari, 84
Al-'Aqqad, Mal:Jmiid 'Abbas, 247
Arab-Israeli conflict, 243
Arab Socialist Union, 248
Arabian peninsula, 267
Arabic language, 235, 237, 238;
grammar, 123; grammatical
principles, 128
Arrajan, 182, 186
297
298 Index
Arsliin family library, 237
Asfor of Mullii Sadrii, 9
Asma'I, 127
astrolabe, 154
Fartd al-Drn, 73
Athanathios Dabbiis, 237
Athrr al-Drn Abharr, 59, 63
authority, religious, 266
Avicenna, see Ibn Sinii
'qwamil (operants), 124, 125, 130-132
'Ayidah 247
'Ayn Tura, 236
Warqii, 236
Azad Bilgramr, 73
al-Azhar, 246
'Azrzaddin Nasafi, 75
Baba Fighanr, 75, 79
Babur ibn Baysunghur, 199
Bach MamlOk ijajj Zuhayr, 25
Bad!' al-Zamiin Mirza, 196
Badr al-Drn ibn Jama'ah, 42, 43
Bahrj 'Uthmiin, 250
Bakhtiyar, ibn 'Umar, 181, 182
al-Baladhuri, 96
Bandini, Anton, 283
Bandini, Orasyu (Horatio), 283
bar-avard, 200
Bashir II, 234
98
Bayqarii, see Sultan ijusain Baiqarii
Bedil, 81-83
Beirut, 237, 240-243, 249
Bell, Richard, 19
Beni /srail, 287
Bernardin de Saint-Pierre, 238
Bey of Tunis, 223
Bible, 20, 239, 240; Gutenberg Bible,
215
Bihbihan, 182, 186
bindings, 220; Ottoman, 199; Safavid,
200
Bint Quraymazan, 145
biographical dictionaries, 93;
alphabetical arrangement, 105;
arrangement by place, 107;
arrangement discipline, 108;
arrangement time span, 106;
definition, 94; dhayl, 103; general,
103; inner structure, 104; restricted,
102; smoothness, 106; specialization,
102; structure, 97, 105; of Sufis, lll;
of Twelver Shi'ites, 109
al-Biruni, 45, 154, 159
Bloch, Marc, 257
Book, see also Kitab, 17
Book of the Universe, 76
Book of Love, 82
books, xiii, 36, 284, 287; in Arab
World, 233; Arabic, 249, 250;
burnings, 39; commissioning, 179; as
a companion, xv; copying, 35;
destruction, 39; diffusion, 9;
dissemination, 235, 237, 240, 246,
250; education, 235; in Egypt, 243;
electronic, machine-readable, 12, 13;
heritage books, 240, 248; imagery,
74, 78; inner, 65; Lebanon, 236;
Malta Arabic, 220; need for, 36;
printed, 5, 6; printed, spread of, 5;
production, 33; provenance, 179;
publishing, 241; role of, xv, 235; as
tools, 38; trade, 291; transfer of, 179;
written, 66
Bourdieu, Pierre, 256
al-Bukhari, 19, 102, 104-106
BO!iiq books, 220, 245
BO!aq Press, 212, 217, 245-246
Biirgel, J. Christoph, 71
Butrus al-Bustanr, 237
cabbala, 66
Cairo, 164, 170, 241, 242, 249
calligraphy, 143, 144; Ottoman period,
146
Camp David aggrement, 244
Canon of Avicenna, 1
Catholic Press, 239, 242
censorship, 40
Cevheri (a1-Jawhari), 284, 289
Cheikho, Luis, 242
Chester Beatty Library, 159
Index 299
Chingizids, 288
Chodkiewicz, Michel, 62
Christianity, 241
Colonna, Fanny, 267
communications revolution, 224
compendia, 43, 45
Corbin, Henry, 60, 61
Cordova, 145
Cornelius van Dyke, 238
curriculum, 264
Dar al-Ahram, 248
Dar al-Hilal, 247, 248
Dar a-'Ilm lil-Maliiyin, 242
Dar al-Ma'arif, 247, 248
Dar al-Makshiif, 242
Dar al-'Uliim Faculty, 248
Dar Siidir-Ril;liini, 242
Dara Shikoh, 83
Oayf, Shawqi, 134
Dayr al-Balamand, 237
Dayr 237
Dayr al-Sharfeh, 237
dhikr, 18
dictionaries, 243
Djait, Hichem, 29
Durrah ai-Katibah, 146
Durrah Khanum, 146
L'Ecole des Langues Orientales, 242
education, 255, 264; Islamic, 267;
mass, 265
Egypt, 234, 247, 249, 257, 260
Egyptian Revolution of 1952, 242, 244
Egyptian National Library, 246
Eisenstein, Elizabeth, 215, 217
English Church Missionary Society, 212
esoteric interpretation, 66
European printers, 1
European languages, 216
Fakhr al-Oin Riizi, 66
Fani, 75-77, 80, 82
Fano, Italy, 234
al-Farabi, 60, 66
Farah Antiin, 241
Farl:lat, Jibril, 212
Farigh, 77
145
fatwas, 262
Fox, M. V., 34
Frankfurt, 174
Friday sermons, 263-265
Frithjof Schuon, 71
fu/Jul, 101
fundamentalism, 255
al-Funiin Society, 240, 241
Fu:?iili, 80, 83
Gdoura, Wahid, 14
Gesii Dariiz, 72, 86
Ghiilib, 83, 84
al-Ghazzali, 66
Gibb, Sir Hamilton, 116, 117, 119
Gilson, Etienne, 60
gnosis, 58, 62, 63
God the Creator, 84
Gospels, 287
Gramsci, Antonio, 256
greater Syria, 240
I:Ia'iri Yazdi Mazandarani, 60
Habermas, Jurgen, 256
l:ladith, 4, 264, 288
I:Iafi:?, 73, 77, 79
142
I:Iafsi, 117, 119
I:Iajji Khalifah, 41, 42, 43, 46
I:Iarnzah ibn Yvsuf ai-Sahmi, 95
Hasht Bihisht, 199
I:Iassiin, Rizqallah, 222
19 _
al-Hay'ah al-'Ammah lil-
Kitab, 248
Haydar ai-Shihabi, 210
ai-Haytham ibn 'Adi, 97
Herat, 196, 198, 199
l)uffoz, 18, 20
Huliigu, 284, 288
Humphreys, R. Stephen, 93, 116, 118,
119
I:Iusayn Bayqara, see Sultan I:Iusain
Baiqara
300
Iba<;II Muslims (lbii<;!Iyah), 261-263
Ibn 'Abd al-Malik al-Marrakishi, 103,
104
Ibn Abi al-l:ladid, 96
Ibn Abi al-I:Iawari, 41, 42
Ibn Abi al-Wafa', 102
Ibn Abi I:Iatim al-Razi, 105
Ibn Abi 95
Ibn Abi Ya'la al-Farra, 102
Ibn a1-Abbar, 103, 104
Ibn al-Anbari, 'Abd al-Rai)man ibn
Mubammad (d. 577/1181), 132
Ibn al-Bawwab, 25, 143
Ibn al-Dabithi, 104
Ibn al-Fara<;II, 103
Ibn a!- 'Imad al-I:Ianba!I, 95
Ibn al-Jawzi, 96, ll1
Ibn al-Kalbi, 97
Ibn al-Murta<;la, 95
Ibn al-Nadim, 46, 96, 97, 102
Ibn al-Najjar, 104
Ibn al-Sarraj, Mubammad ibn al-Sari,
129, 154, 158, 159, 164
Ibn 'Arabi, Mubyi al-Din, 24, 39, 62,
66, 74, 75, 143
Ibn 'Asakir, 108
Ibn 'Ashiir, a!-Tiihir, 18
Ibn Bashkiiwal, 103, 104
Ibn Bassiim, 103, 109
Ibn Fa<;!! Allah al-'Urnari, 96, 174
Ibn I:Iajar al-'Asqalani, 96, 102, 106
Ibn I:Ianbal, Al)mad, 39-41
Ibn I:Iayyan, 103, 104
Ibn I:Iazm, 103
Ibn l:libban al-Busti, 104, 105
Ibn Jama'ah, see Badr al-Din ibn
Jama'ah
Ibn Khaldiin, 'Abd al-Rai)miin, 45, 46
Ibn Khallikan, 35, 103, 105, 115
Ibn Ma<;la', Ai)mad ibn 'Abd al-
Rai)man, 128
Ibn Makiila, 96
Ibn Mas'iid, 41
Ibn Muqlah, 143
Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyah, 39
Ibn Qutaybah, 95
Index
Ibn Ri<;lwan, al-I:Iasan (d. 453/1061), 38
Ibn Rushayd Al-Sabti, 96
Ibn Sa'd, 97, 100-102, 112, 113
Ibn Sa'Id al-Andalusi, 109
Ibn Sallam al-Jumabi, 97, 99, 100, 102
Ibn Shakir al-Kutubi, 104
Ibn Sina (Avicenna), 59, 66
Ibn Sirin, Abii Bakr Mubammad, 44
Ibn Taghribirdi, 96
Ibn Turkah, 59
Ibn Wallad, Ai)mad ibn Mui)ammad,
130
Ibn Yiinus, 170
ibrahim Miiteferrika, 284, 286
Ibrahim Pashii, 237
'ilal, 124
illustrations, 149
'ilm al-}Juruf, 24
al-Imam, 17
Institut Francais de l'Archeologie
Orientale du Caire, 246
international book fair, 249
Iqbal, Mubamrnad, 80, 83, 85
iqra', 17, 57
Iran, 259, 267
Ir!iq, 235
' Isa ibn 'Urnar, 126, 127
Isfahan, 159
Islam, 234, 235, 258, 260, 264
Islamic civilization, 99-102
Islamic Conference Organization, 266
Islamic ideologies, 256
Islamic state, 287
Isma'Il Bakhshi, 77
Isma'Il I:Iaqqr, 62
Isma'Il, 246
Istanbul, 215, 241
Jabal 'Ami!, 236
al-Jai)i:?:, Abii 'Uthman, xiv, 38, 43, 44,
95, 143, 144
Jalal al-Drn 95
Jalal al-Drn Dawani, 61
Jaliil al-Drn Kirmani, 201
Jalal al-Drn Riimi, 64, 71, 72, 81,
84-86
Index
301
Jamal al-Oin al-Mizzi, 95, 102
Jamal al-Oin al-Qifti, 93, 95
Jami, 71, 72, 74, 79, 80, 81, 85, 196,
198, 202
al-Jawii'ib, 211, 213
Jawa'ib Press, 214
Jayhun, 288
Jean Joseph Marcel, 244
Jerusalem, 287
Jesuits, 238
Jesus, 287
jihad, 290
Jordan, 260
al-Jurjani, 'Abd al-Qahir, (d. 471/1078),
132
Ka'bah, 164, 171; orientation, 171
Kamal Khiijandi, 196
Karatay, F.E., 181
Khalaf 127
Khalidi, T. , 116, 117
ai-Khalil ibn 127, 129, 130
Khalil 247
al-Khalili, ibn I:Iamad, 261-263,
265
Khaliqi, MutJaq, J., 181, 201
144
Khamsah, 180, 182, 190, 191, 193, 196,
199
Khaqani, Af<;lal al-Oin, 72, 84
ai-Baghdadi, 36, 37, 41, 95,
104-106, 108
kha((, 76, 77, 79-83
Khawarij, 262
Khayr al-Oin al-Tiinisi, 222, 223; in
Tunis, 234
Khedive of Egypt, 223
a!-Khiishani, 108
Khwaja Murshid-i Kashgari, 201
ai-Kindi, 59, 143
al-Kishshi, 110
kitiib, see also books, 17, 75
Kitiib, 18, 123
al-Kitiib, 22
Kitiib of Sibawayhi, 128
knowledge, 35, 46, 209
Koran (Qur'lin), xiv, 1, 17, 22, 65, 77,
78, 235, 256, 266, 267, 284, 287,
288; compilation, 23; form, 25;
I:Ia<;linah Koran, 146; Hamburg, I;
memorization, 257; miraculous
nature, 26; preservation, 18;
properties, 23; revelation, 57
Krystal, Arthur, 47
Kufah, 98, 100
al-Kiilini, 110
Labid, 21
lahag, 34
Lajnat al-Ta'lif, 248
Lane, Edwardd, 246
learning, 261
Lebanese Mission, 242
Lebanon, 234, 242, 251
liberal age, 247
libraries, 36; history, 71; public, 38
Library of Congress, Center for the
Book, xii
literacy, 8
literature, Arabic, 71
lithography, 12
litterateurs, 210
Lisiin al-Tayr, 200
Lorch, Richard, 154
love, 81, 85
Lubmi, 144
Lughat al-Furs, 180, 181
al-Ma'arri, Abii al-'Ala', 39
al-Mada'ini, 143
madrasah, 267
the Maghrib, 288
Mahdi Hairi, 60
Mahdi Ilahi Qumsha'I, 60, 66
Mahdi, Muhsin, 60
Mabfiiz, Najib, 243
Maktubji, 241
Male, Emile, 28
Malta, 212
Malta Arabic press, 213, 219, 237
Mamluks, 244
al-Manar Press, 247
al-Bihbihani, 187, 188, 191
302 Index
manuscripts, xiv, 235; copying, 10
manuscript age, I; transition from, 5,
12
maps, 149; qiblah, 159
Maqiimiit of Hamadhiini, 216
al-Maqiisid Benevolent Society, 240
al-Maqqari, 96
Maronite clergy, 236
al-Masabki, Nicholas, 244
Masparo, Gaston, 246
242
Mauliinii (Mawliinii) Jalaladdin Riimi,
see Jaliil al-Oin Riirni
Miizini, Bakr ibn Mul,lammad, 129
Medina, 100
metaphors, 73
Mevlana Abdullah, 285
Mevlana Asad, 285
Mevlana ishak, 285
Mevlana Musa, 285
Mevlana Sahib, 285
Mez, Adam, 43
minhaj, 261
Mir Diimiid, 60, 63
Mir Dard of Delhi, 78, 86
mi$/Jaf, 22
al-Miskawayh (ibn) Al,lmad, 44
modernity, 234, 241
monastery of St. Anthony, 236
Montaigne, 222
Morocco, 235, 257, 258, 266, 267
Moses Maimonides, 49
al-Mu'assasah al-'Ammah lil-Ta'!If, 248
Mu'ayyid al-Oin Jandi, 62
Mu'iiwiyah ibn Abi Sufyiin, 142
Mubarrad, Mul:lammad ibn Yazid, 124,
128-132
Muja$$al, 19
Mul,lammad, the Prophet, 18, 19, 39,
57, 75, 141, 142, 243, 260, 264, 267,
284
Mul,lammad 'Abduh, 241, 223, 234,
243-245
Mul,lammad HaravL 201
Mul,lammad ibn Khalaf Wiiki, 95
Mul,lammad 63
Mul,lammad Shahraziiri, 61
al-Mu'izz ibn Badis, 146
Press, 242
Mullii Sadrii, 58, 61, 63, 66
al-Munjid, 242
muqri'fn, 20
muraqqa', 198
mu$aiJ/JiiJ, 10
mu$}Jaf, 22, 26
al-Murta<;hi al-Zabidi, 96
Muslim Brothers, 259
Karh, 73
al-Mutalammis, 22
234
al-Muwiizanah of al-Amidi, 216
Muznah, 145
mystical fraternities, 6, 7
al-Niibulusi, 'Abd al-Ghani, 62
nahqah, 210
na}Jw, 123, 124
al-Najiishi, llO
al-Najjiir, Ibrahim, 238
Napoleon Bonaparte, 244
al-Narshakhi, 107
al-Yaziji, 237, 238
Mul,lammad 'Anda!Ib, 74
74
ibn 'Asim, 133
Nasser, Jamal 'Abd a!-, 248, 249
National Archives, 248
National Library, 248
Nawiib of Bhopal, 223
Nawfal Elias Nawfal, 240
81, 83
Nebuchadnezzar, 287
Nishapur, 108
73, 197
Nizwa, 265
Noldeke, Theodor, 19, 20
non-Muslim communities, 5
North Africa, 260
novels, 239, 240
al-Nu(i(iiir, 144
objectification, 255
Oman, 257, 261, 264, 266
Index
303
Omanis, 262-265
Omar Khayyam, 88
oral information, 47
oral tradition, 8, 57, 58, 62, 65, 264; in
Islam, 66
oral transmission, 36, 57, 59, 60, 61
orthography, 8
Ottoman Observatory, 149
Ottoman state, 290
Ottoman rule, 234
Ottoman printing law, 241
Padishah, 285
page layouts, 220
Pakistan, 267
Palestine question, 243
paper, xiv; chinese, 133
Petrucci, Armando, 28
philosophy, 63, 64; Islamic, 58;
mashshii'i, 60, 63; Oriental
(lshriiql), 61
photographic reproductions, 12
pilgrimage, 266
plays, 240
poetry, Arabic, 101; I:Iuriifi, 77
preservation, 19, 221
the press, 6
presses, state ownership, 6
print revolution, 215
printing, 4, 209, 210, 214, 215, 233,
235, 285, 286; Arabic, 210; benefits,
189; and the Holy Law, 292; impact
on language, 7; linguistic and literary
standards, 219; press, 212, 235
proof readers, 285
Protestantism, 238
Psalms, 237
Psalter, 236
publishers, archives of, 7
publishing houses, 236, 242
punctuation, 220
al-Qabbanl, 'Abd al-Qadir, 240
Qabbanl, Nizar, 243
Qiibiis ibn Sa'ld, 261
al-Qii<.II 'Iyad, 102
al-Qarafah, 170
Qarawlyln, 267
al-Qazwlnl, 64, 162
qiblah, 159; finding, 164; pre-Islamic,
171
qiyiis, 125, 130
Qur'an, see Koran
Quraysh, 100, 141
qurrii, 18
Qurrii', 29
al-Qushayrl, 111
Q u ~ b al-Din Shirazi, 61, 63
Quzhayyii, 236
Ragib Mehmed P a ~ a . 9
Rama<.}an, 267
Rasiil al-Najjan, 222
rationalism, 241
religious authority, 259
renaissance, 8
Rice, D.S., 25
al-Rida, 145
Riga, Rashid, 247
al-riqq, 22
Rose, the, 79
rose, 80
Rosenthal, Franz, 116
Rushdl, 'Abd al-Ral:lman, 246
siibiqah, 98
Sa'dr, 21, 73, 76, 78, 86
Sadr al-Din QiinawL 62, 65
saftnah, 75
Safii, Jirjls, 237
safr, 21
!faiJifah, 22
Sa 'ld Pasha, 246
St. George Orthodox Press, 237
St. Joseph University, 239
Sait Efendi, 284
Salafiyah, 234
Salal:l al-Din al-Safadi, 95, 104, 106
Salim Faris, 223
Salmon ibn Yeruham, 34
samil, 130
Saml a!-Biiriidi, 80
al-Sammiin, Ghadah, 243
304 Index
Sana'i of Ghazna, 75, 81, 86
al-Saq 'ala al-saq, 213
$arf, 129
Sarmad, 83
Saudi Arabia, 249
Sayyid, Fu'ad, 15
Sayyid Qutb, 259-262
Sayyidah, 145
school of languages, 244
science, Islamic, 149
scribal tradition, 4, 9, 212
script, Andalusian, 143; Kufi, 143;
Mul)aqqaq, 143
secularism, 241
Selim-namah, 193, 196
!jeyh-ul- isllJ!Tl. 285, 292
al-Sha'bi, 'Amir, 45
al-Shafa' hint 'AbdAllah ai-'Adawiyah,
142
al-Shafi'i, 107
Shah Isma'il, 193, 196
Shiih Rukh, 180, 188, 202
Shiih Shujii', 180
Shiih Waliallah of Delhi, 62
Shah-namah, 180-182, 193, 196, 197
Shahid, Irfan, xiv
Shahrastiini, 66
Shams al-Din ai-Dhahabi, 102, 107, 116
Shams a l - l : l a f i ~ al-Shiriizi, 188
shari'ah, 129
Shaykh ai-Khalili, see ai-Khalili,
Ai).mad ibn I:Iarnad
al-Shaykh ai-Mufid 110
Shi'ah, 265
al-Shidyaq, His, 210, 237; collector of
Mss., 211; copyist, 211; as
disseminator, 216; effects of
activities, 215; in Istanbul, 213; as
journalist, 216; publications, 214; as
role model, 222; in Thnis, 213
al-Shidyiiq, Tanniis, 238
Shu'bah ibn al-Hajjaj, 41
Shuhdah hint al-Ubri, 145
shUra, 267
Shuwayr, 237
Sibawayhi, 123, 127, 129, 130, 132
ai-Sijzi, 154
Sirr al-layal, 214
Sitt Nasim, 144
standardization, 220, 221
standardization of texts, 217
state, role of, 7
Stchoukine, Ivan, 180, 181, 188, 190,
191, 193
ai-Siifi, 149, 174
Sufis, 64
Sufism, 62, 65
Sufyan ai-Thawri, 40, 41
ai-Suhrawardi, Yahya, 61
Sukkar, 144
al-Sulami, 111
Sulayman al-Bariini, 263
Sulayman ai-Bustani, 247
Sultan al-Ashraf, 154
Sultan I:Iusain Baiqara (Bayqara), 72,
180, 187, 188, 197-200, 202
Sultan Mul:lammad Mul:lsin, 199
Sultan Murad III, 154
Sultan Qaboos University, 261
Sultan Sa'id, 263
Sultan Selim, 193, 196
surahs, 24
Syriac language, 237
Syrian Protestant College, 237, 239
Syrians, 247
ta'lfl, 131
rabaqat, 115
al-Tabari, 96
Tabalaba'i, Mul:lammad I:Iusayn, 63
tables of contents, 219
Tabriz, 196
al-Tabrizi, Lutf Allah, 181, 182
al-Tabrizi, Mul:lamrnad ibn Malik
Al:lrnad, 196, 200
Taha Hussein, 247, 248
al-Tahtawi, Rifii'ah Rafi', 244
Tiij al-D!n al-Subld, 102, 107
Tiimir, 'Arif, 14
tanzll, 27
Taqi al-Din, 154
Targum, 34
L
Index
305
Tashkopriizadeh, 46, 116
tawatur, 20
Tawfiq (Khedive), 246
Tawfiq al-l:lakim, 247
see Abii l:layyan
technological revolution, 13
textbooks, 238
textual criticism, 4
Throne of God, 65
Tigris, 288
tilawah, 27
title pages, 219
Topkapt Sarayt Library, 179
Torah, 287
traditions, of the Prophet, see
translations, 5; impact of, 6
Tripoli, 236
Tunis, 235
Tunisia, 249
al-Turabi, Hassan, 259
Turkey, 242, 260
Turkiyah, 144
al-Tiisi, 60, 63, 110
typeface, 213, 219; Arabic, 237
'Ubadah ibn al-SamiL 142
Ubbay ibn Ka'b, 142
Ubbay ibn Ka'b, 142
'Ukashah, Tharwat, 249
'ulamii', xiv, 58, 209, 235, 243, 259
Ullmann, M. 49
'ulum al-Qur'an, 44
'Umar ibn 'Abd al-'Aziz, 19, 21
'Umar ibn al-Khanab, 142
Umayyads, 288
Umid, 79
Ummayah ibn Abi at-Salt, 20
United Nations, 263
al-'Uqayli, 105
'Urabi revolution, 243
'Urfi, 78
'Utbah, 144
'Uthman ibn 'Affiin, caliph, 25, 142
Van Kulu, 284, 289
ventilator, 164
Vesiletu-t Tibaa, 286
al-Wadi'ashi, 96
al-Wajih 39
Wali Deccani, 73
al-Waqa'i' 212
waqf library, 39
Warburg Institute, 242
Warqah ibn Nawfal, 21
Warqah ibn 'Umar Samarqandi, 187,
201, 202
a/-warraq, xiv, 235
West Bank, 259
William Watts, 213
Wolfson, Harry A., 60
women, 99, 101, 141; copying of
Korans, 145; occupations, 144;
scholars, 145
word, spoken, 36
Wortabet, W. Thomas, 238
writing, 21, 24, 28
Yanni, Jurji, 240
al-I:IamawL 43, 44, 95, 105, 162
Yasin, 'Abd al-Saliim, 259
al-Yaziji, Ibrahim, 222, 247
Yemen, 154
Young Turks, 242
Yiinus ibn I:Iabib, 126
Yiisuf al-Asir, 222, 240
Yiisuf Tiima al-Bustani, 247
Zakhir, 'Abdallah, 236-238
Zamakhshari, 73
al-Zarkashi, ibn Bahadir,
44
Zawzani, 211
Zayd ibn Arqum, 142
Zayd ibn Asian, 25
Zayd ibn Thiibit, 18, 19, 142
Zaydan, Jurji, 247
Zebun-Nisa, 76
Zgharta, 236
Zubaydi, ibn al-l:lasan, 129
Zulaykhah Khiitimi al-Sa'di, 146

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