At the beginning of the sixth century A.H., a younger contemporary of al-Ghazali, we have Abu Bakr ibn Bajja (d. 533 A.H. = 1138 A.D.), the first of the Muslim philosophers of Spain. By this time, some three-quarters of a century after the death of Ibn Sina, Arabic philosophy was almost extinct in Asia and was treated as a dangerous heresy. In Egypt, it is true, there was a greater degree of toleration, though less than in the golden age of the Fatimids, but Egypt was regarded with suspicion as the home of heresy and of forms of superstition which were uncongenial to the philosopher. Spain thus becomes the place of refuge for Muslim philosophy as it had already become the nursery of Jewish speculation. Ibn Bajja, known to the Latin schoolmen as “Avempace,” found in Murabit Spain the freedom and toleration which Asia no longer afforded. He continues the work of al-Farabi, not, it will be noted, of Ibn Sina, and develops the neo-Platonic interpretation of Aristotle on sober and conservative lines. He wrote commentaries on Aristotle’s Physics, de generatione et corruptione, and the Meteora; he produced original works on mathematics, on “the soul,” and a treatise which he called “The Hermit’s Guide,” which was used by Ibn Rushd (Averroes) and by the Jewish writer Moses of Narbonne in the 14th cent. A.D. In this last work he makes a distinction between “animal activity,” in which action is due to the prompting of the emotions, passions, etc., and “human activity,” which is suggested and directed by abstract reason, and from this distinction draws a rule of life and conduct. He is chiefly cited by the Latin schoolmen with reference to the doctrine of “separate substances.” “Avempace held that, by the study of the speculative sciences, we are able by means of the images which we know from these ideas to attain to the knowledge of separate substances” (St. Thomas Aq. c. Gentiles, 3, 41). This question as to the possibility of knowing substances separated, i.e. abstracted, from the concrete bodies in which they exist in combination—and the “separate substances” were regarded as spiritual things—was prominent in mediæval scholasticism, which inherited it from the Arabic philosophers, and from it came the further question whether the contemplation of such abstract ideas gives us a better knowledge of realities than observation of the concrete bodies. Both Albertus Magnus and St. Thomas Aquinas associate Avempace especially with this question and with the doctrine of the “acquired intellect,” to which we have already referred in our notes on Ibn Sina, and which completes the theory of “separate substances” by supposing that intelligible forms stream into our souls from an outside Agent Intellect by way of emanation as substantial forms descend on corporeal matter. St. Thomas Aquinas shows direct knowledge of Avempace’s treatment of these subjects, but this is not so evident in Albertus. Avempace, like all other Arabic philosophers, describes ittisal or union of the human intellect with the Agent Intellect, of which it is an emanation, as the supreme beatitude and final end of human life. By the operation of the Agent Intellect on the latent intellect in man this is awakened to life, but eternal life consists in the complete union of the intellect with the Agent Intellect. In Avempace the Sufi strain is much weaker than in al-Farabi; the means of attaining this union is not by ecstasy, but by a steady disentangling of the soul of those material things which hinder its pure intellectual life and consequent union. This leads us to the teaching of asceticism as the discipline of the soul for its spiritual progress, and the ascetic and solitary life is the ideal proposed by Avempace. This ascetic and contemplative hermit life is not, however, in any sense a religious life, for in this respect Avempace has advanced far beyond al-Farabi; he is fully conscious that pure philosophy cannot be reconciled with the teachings of revelation, a conviction which now marks the definite separation of the “philosophers” from the orthodox scholastics of Islam, such as al-Ghazali and his school; he regards the teachings of revelation as an imperfect presentation of the truths which are more completely and correctly learned from Aristotle, and only admits the Qur´an and its religion as a discipline for the multitude whose intelligence neither desires nor is capable of philosophical reasoning. Strangely enough he lived in security, protected from the attacks of hostile theologians, under the protection of the Murabit princes.
Within a few years after the death of Avempace the Murabit dynasty came to an end. The succeeding dynasty, the Muwahhids, were of Berber origin like the Murabits, and, like them, had their origin in a religious revival.
The foundation of the Muwahhids is associated with Ibn Tumart (d. 524 A.H. = 1129 A.D.). He was a native of Morocco, and a strange combination of fanatic and scholastic. He claimed to be a descendant of `Ali, and posed as the “Mahdi” possessing the supernatural grace of isma or “security from error,” and thus introduced Shi`ite ideas into Morocco; and at the same time it was he who introduced to the West the orthodox scholasticism of al-Ghazali, although at the same time he professed to be a follower of Ibn Hazm. He travelled in Asia, where, no doubt, he learned of al-Ghazali and his doctrines. Roughly treated at Mecca he removed to Egypt, where he rendered himself prominent and objectionable by his puritanical criticisms on the manners of the people. Setting out from Alexandria in a ship travelling westwards he occupied himself with a reformation of the morals of the crew, compelling them to observe the correct hours of prayer and the other duties of religion. In 505 he appeared at Mahdiya, where he took up his abode in a wayside mosque. There he used to sit at the window watching the passers-by, and, whenever he saw any of them carrying a jar of wine or a musical instrument, he used to sally out and seize the offensive article and break it. The common people reverenced him as a saint, but many of the wealthier citizens resented his activities, and at length brought a complaint against him before the Emir Yahya. The Emir heard their complaints and observed Ibn Tumart and took note of the impression he had made upon the populace. With characteristic craft the Emir treated the reformer with all possible respect, but advised, nay rather urged, him to bestow the favour of his presence upon some other town as soon as convenient to him, and so he removed to Bijaiya (Bougie in Algeria). Here his ways were extremely unpopular, and he was driven away. He next settled at Mellala, where he met a boy named `Abdu l-Mumin al-Kumi (d. 558), a potter’s son, whom he made his disciple and declared to be his successor. At this time the Murabit dynasty had fallen from its original puritanism and was distinguished for the wealth and luxury which had been made possible by the conquest of Spain, and the splendour and ostentation of the royal family at Morocco laid it open to criticism. One Friday a faqir entered the public square where a throne was made ready for the Emir, and, pushing his way through the guards who stood round, boldly took his seat upon the throne and refused to leave. It was the Mahdi Ibn Tumart, and, so great was the superstitious reverence accorded to all faqirs, and to him above all, that none of the guards standing round ventured to remove him by force. At length the Emir himself appeared and, finding who had occupied his official seat, declined to interfere with the redoubtable faqir’s will, but it was privately made plain to Ibn Tumart that it would be wise for him to leave the city for a while. The Mahdi therefore retired to Fez, but soon afterwards returned to Morocco. One day he met in the streets the Emir’s sister, who had adopted the shameless foreign custom of riding in public without a veil. The Mahdi stopped her and poured out a stream of abuse at her for this neglect of established custom, then, overcome by his indignation, he pulled her off the beast she was riding. He seems, however, to have felt some alarm at his own temerity and fled forthwith to Tinamel, where he openly raised the standard of revolt against a corrupt and unfaithful dynasty. At first this rebellion did not meet with much success, but, after the Mahdi’s death, the leadership fell to his pupil, `Abdu l-Mumin, who took Oran, Tlemsen, Fez, Sale, Ceuta, and in 542 became master of Morocco, and in due course seized all the empire of the Murabits. The new dynasty established by `Abdu l-Mumin is known by the name of the Muwahhids or “Unitarians,” a title which the Spanish historians render by “Almohades,” and their rule endured until 667 A.H. (= 1268 A.D.).
Ibn Tumart professed to be a follower of al-Ghazali, and introduced his system of orthodox scholasticism to the West. In canon law he followed the reactionary school of Da´ud az-Zahiri and Ibn Hazm, like the Murabits who preceded him. To the multitude he was the champion of Berber nationality; he translated the Qur´an into the Berber language, and caused the call to prayer to be made in Berber instead of Arabic.
Muwahhid rule introduced a period of bigotry and of religious persecution. It was under the rule of this dynasty that we find the Jews leaving the country in large numbers and migrating to Africa or to Provence, and many Christians also fled to join the Castilian forces in the north. Modern historians tend to condemn the later severities of Christian rulers towards their Muslim subjects, and often seem to speak of those subjects as the peaceable and cultured population which had lived under the Umayyads and the Murabits. But Spain’s last experience of the Muslims was of the fierce, bigoted, and persecuting Muwahhids, whose tone was very different. Strangely, however, it was under these intolerant rulers that Spanish Islam passed through its golden age of philosophical speculation, and not only so, but the philosophers were protected and favoured by the Muwahhid court. Quite early in this period the position seems to have been tacitly arranged that the philosophers were absolutely free in their work and teaching, provided that teaching was not spread abroad amongst the populace: it was to be regarded as a species of esoteric truth reserved for the enlightened. It seems almost certain that this attitude was deliberately arranged by the philosophers themselves; it had already been sketched out by some of the Asiatic writers, and definitely laid down by al-Ash`ari and al-Ghazali, and the Muwahhids, it must be remembered, professed to be Ghazalians. But whilst the philosophers enjoyed this exceptional freedom of speculation, so different from the repressive orthodoxy of the Turkish dynasties in Asia, and defended the system in their writings, the rulers officially were enforcing amongst the multitude of their subjects the severest orthodoxy and the most reactionary system of jurisprudence, so reactionary that it was never admitted by the Asiatic sultans.
The first great leader of philosophical thought in Muwahhid Spain was Ibn Tufayl (d. 581 = 1185), who was wazir and court physician under the Muwahhid Abu Yaqub (A.H. 558-580). His teaching was in general conformity with that of Ibn Bajja (Avempace), but the mystic element is much more strongly marked. He admits ecstasy as a means of attaining the highest knowledge and of approaching God. But in Ibn Tufayl’s teaching this knowledge differs very much from that aimed at by the Sufis: it is mystic philosophy rather than mystic theology. The beatific vision reveals the Agent Intellect and the chain of causation reaching down to man and then back again to itself.
In his views as to the need of removing the doctrines of philosophy from the multitude he shows the same principles as Ibn Bajja, which are those which came to be recognised as the proper official attitude under the Muwahhids, and defends them in a romance called Hayy b. Yaqzan, “the Living One son of the Wakeful,” the work by which his name is best remembered. In this story we have the picture of two islands, one inhabited by a solitary recluse who spends his time in contemplation and thereby raises his intellect until he finds that he is able to apprehend the eternal verities which are in the One Active intellect. The other island is inhabited by ordinary people who are occupied in the commonplace incidents of life and follow the practices of religion in the form known to them. In this way they are content and happy, but fall far short of the complete and perfect happiness of the recluse on the other island. In course of time the recluse, who is perfectly well aware of the neighbouring island and its inhabitants, begins to feel great pity for them in that they are excluded from the more perfect felicity which he enjoys, and in an honest desire for their welfare, goes over to them and preaches the truth as he has found it. For the most part he is quite unintelligible to them, and the only result is that he produces confusion, doubt, and controversial strife amongst those whom he desired to benefit, but who are incapable of the intellectual life which he has led. In the end he returns to his island convinced that it is a mistake to interfere with the conventional religion of the multitude.
Ibn Rushd (A.H. 520-595), known to the West as Averroes, was the greatest of the Arabic philosophers, and was practically their last. He was a native of Cordova and the friend and protégé of Ibn Tufayl, by whom he was introduced to Abu Ya´qub in 548. He was, however, more outspoken than Ibn Tufayl, and wrote several controversial works against al-Ghazali and his followers. The family to which he belonged was one whose members usually became jurists, and Ibn Rushd acted as Qadi in various Spanish towns; like most of the Arabic philosophers he studied medicine, and in 578 was appointed court physician to Abu Ya´qub. By this time he had finished his career as an author. Under the Muwahhid Abu Yusuf al-Mansur he was censured as a heretic and banished from Cordova. It must be remembered that the Muwahhids, like the Murabits, were really Moroccan rulers, to whom Spain was a foreign province. It was whilst the Emir was in Spain and at Cordova, making ready for an attack upon the Christians, that Ibn Rushd was disgraced, and it seems probable that this was mainly a matter of policy, as the Emir, on the eve of a religious war, was desirous of proving his own strict orthodoxy by the public disapproval of one who had been rather too outspoken in his speculative theories. As soon as the Emir returned to Morocco the order of exile was revoked, and later on Ibn Rushd appears at the court of Morocco, where he died in 595.
Amongst the Muslims Ibn Rushd has not exercised great influence; it was the Jews who supplied the bulk of his admirers, and they, scattered in Provence and Sicily by Muwahhid persecution, seem to have been chiefly instrumental in introducing him to Latin Christendom.
His chief medical work was known as the Kulliyat, “the universal,” which, under the Latinized name of “colliget,” became popular as a manual in the mediæval universities where the Arabic system of medicine was in use. He wrote also on jurisprudence a text-book of the law of inheritance, which is still extant in MS., and also produced works on astronomy and grammar. He maintained that the task of philosophy was one approved and commended by religion, for the Qur´an shows that God commands men to search for the truth. It is only the prejudice of the unenlightened which fears freedom of thought, because for those whose knowledge is imperfect the truths of philosophy seem to be contrary to religion. On this topic he composed two theological treatises—“On the Agreement of Religion with Philosophy” and “On the Demonstration of Religious Dogmas,” both of which have been edited by M. J. Mueller. The popular beliefs he does not accept, but he regards them as wisely designed to teach morality and to develop piety amongst the people at large; the true philosopher allows no word to be uttered against established religion, which is a thing necessary for the welfare of the people. Aristotle he regards as the supreme revelation of God to man: with it religion is in total agreement, but as religion is known to the multitude it only partially discloses Divine truth and adapts it to the practical needs of the many; in religion there is a literal meaning, which is all the uneducated are able to attain, and there is an “interpretation,” which is the disclosing of deeper truths beneath the surface which it is not expedient to communicate to the multitude. He opposes the position of Ibn Bajja, who inclined to solitary meditation and avoided the discussion of philosophical problems; he admits and desires such discussion provided it is confined to the educated who are able to understand its bearing, and not brought before the multitude who are thereby in danger of having their simple faith undermined. He agrees with Ibn Bajja, however, as against Ibn Tufayl in disapproval of ecstasy; such a thing may be, but it is too rare to need serious consideration.