Thursday, May 9, 2019

The Influence of al-Ghazali on the Theory of Causality




The Influence of al-Ghazâlî on the Theory of Causality
            One of the most interesting features of the “Big Three” religions of the world is that the underlying doctrines of each can trace their lineages directly to an ongoing debate between the Aristotelian view of Materialism and Plato’s Theory of Forms that began nearly 24 centuries ago.[1] In dealing with the history of interaction between the adherents of Christianity, Judaism, and Islam, Western scholarly views traditionally pitted Christianity—touted as the central religion—against the others in what essentially amounted to a power struggle to maintain the one true Will of the one true God. However, many scholars over the past several decades have begun adopting what is now understood to be the more appropriate, more accurate version of the history of the Mediterranean—namely, that these religions developed along similar lines in a broad, multicultural region of the world that was rich in trade, politics, and scientific advancements. For example, by the time of the Islamic Golden Age from roughly the mid-7th to the mid-13th centuries[2], the Mediterranean Sea had offered a relatively easy route for traders and conquerors alike to travel from Valencia to Tripoli and anywhere in between for several hundred years. Along with myriad goods, ideas on everything from religion to politics; from medicine to astrology; and from atoms to the formation of the universe were readily exchanged in cities such as Córdoba, al-Andalus (Spain) and Alexandria, Egypt, drawing influence from virtually every known part of the world at the time. Baghdad once served as the site of one of the intellectual, cultural, and scientific centers of the world and economic powerhouses such as Cairo began exerting a much larger trading influence around the Mediterranean through the trade of a number of ‘exotic’ goods.[3] By the mid-11th century, Islamic influence on the entire region was ubiquitous and many great works of Greek philosophy, mathematics, and science had been translated into Arabic by Abu Yusuf Ya’qub ibn Ishaq Al-Kindi and others that followed.[4] Then in 1095, Abû Hâmid Muhammad ibn Muhammad al-Ghazâlî (Ghazâlî, or Muhammad, hereafter) began publishing works critically examining the philosophical arguments of Ash’arites and Mu’tazilites (collectively, Mutakallimûn) and those of the Greeks.[5] And it is to this most influential scholar that attention is turned.
            Ghazâlî was born in the mid- to late-1050s in what is now northeastern Iran. Educated in Ash’arite theology by al-Juwaynî, Muhammad eventually ascended the political and religious ranks of Baghdad and was appointed to a position at the Nizâmayya Madrasa in 1091.[6] It was during this time that Ghazâlî began his endeavor to develop a rigid, more coherent analysis of the foundations of Islam. One of the ambiguities that arose during some of the preliminary translations of  Ghazâlî’s tahâfut al-falâsifa (falâsifa) by Dr. Simon Van den Bergh was his view of the Theory of Causality.[7] But, before diving into falâsifa, perhaps it would be prudent to briefly examine the basics of the Aristotelian and Platonic views in which Islamic ideology find its roots.
On the one hand, Aristotle argued that in order to understand the internal structure of the physical world, experiments must be conducted within the framework of a rigid methodology. “The most exact sciences,” he writes, “are those that, more than the others, study the first things; for the sciences that are derived from fewer principles (for instance, arithmetic) are more exact than those (for instance, geometry) that require further principles… Further, the most superior science—the one that is superior to any subordinate science—is the one that knows the end for which a given thing should be done; this end is something’s good, and in general the end is what is best in every sort of nature” (Aristotle et al., p. 118). Aristotle later begins a long discussion Substance with, “The things called substances are, first, the simple bodies (earth, fire, water, and everything like that) and in general bodies and the things composed from them (animals and divine things and their parts). All these things are said to be substances because they are not said of a subject, but the other things are said of them” (Aristotle et al., p. 149). After a long line of reasoning that examines everything from Plato’s and Democritus’ arguments to the interaction between potentiality and actuality, he arrives at a few noteworthy understandings. “It is evident from what has been said, then, that there is an everlasting, unmoved substance that is separated from perceptible things (Aristotle et al., p. 191). He continues:

The nature of understanding raises a number of puzzles. For understanding seems to be the most divine of the things we observe, but many difficulties arise about what state it must be in if it is to be so divine…

then, must understand itself, so that its understanding is an understanding of understanding. In every case, however, knowledge, perception, belief, and though have something other than themselves as their object; each has itself as its object as a by-product (Aristotle et al., p. 192).
Finally, Aristotle wraps up his discussion of Substance by addressing knowledge:

[K]knowledge, like knowing, is of two kinds, potential and actual. Since the potentiality, as being matter, is universal and indefinite, it is of the universal and indefinite. But since the actuality is definite, it is of what is definite, and, since it is a this, it is of a this…
It is clear, however, that in a way knowledge is universal, and in a way it is not (Aristotle et al., p.195).

            On the other hand, Plato used, for example, the parable of the cave to question whether something actually exists or whether it exists within the essence of that thing—what he called Forms. Although Ghazâlî eventually offers a sort of compromise between the two, since the majority of Ghazâlî’s refutations examined here regard Aristotelian Materialism, further elaboration on Plato’s Forms is unnecessary.
In his treatise falâsifa, referring to the authors of ancient works collectively as the philosophers, Ghazâlî begins the section ‘Refutation of their belief in the eternity of the world’,

THE philosophers disagree among themselves as to the eternity of the world. But the majority of the philosophers - ancient as well as modern-agree upon its eternity, holding that it always coexisted with God (exalted be He) as His effect which was concurrent with Him in time -concurrent as an effect is with the cause, e.g.., light with the Sun -and that God's priority to the world is the priority of the cause to the effect - viz., priority in essence and rank, not in time. Plato is said to have maintained that the world began in time. But some people put different inter­pretations on his words, for they would not have him believe in the origin of the world... The consensus of opinion among the philosophers is that as a rule it is inconceivable that something which has a beginning in time should proceed from the eternal without there being any intermediary (Ghazâlî 1058-1111 CE).[8]

In other words, the discussion involves determining causes and their effects. In Did Al-Ghazali Deny Causality, Goodman notes, “Ghazâlî’s argument against the sufficiency of observed causes to produce their effects does not deny but rather exploits the Philosophers’ emanative view of nature and assumes the rejection of a reductionistic view which might consistently have regarded the material objects as self-sufficient in their causal action” (Goodman, p. 91). And in Alon’s interpretation:
                       
The definition of the universality of causality, namely the assertion that nothing has ever occurred without some cause, usually maintains that the existence of a phenomenon implies that of a cause. Such a definition of causality would seem to be acceptable to Al-Ghazâlî, as well as to even the most extreme opponents of causality among the Ash’arites, who accept the doctrine that Allah is the sole cause of everything…

Allah alone is responsible for their creation in a specific order, but it is in His power to disconnect them at will (Alon, p.399).
            Abrahamov briefly examines falâsifa while referencing both Goodman and Alon:
                       
Alon proves through a structural, contextual and semantic examination of chapter XVII of tahâfut al-falsâsifa (referring mainly to the above quoted section and what follows) that al-Ghazâlî seeks to reconcile the two opposing views on causality, the philosophical view and that of the Kalâm.[9] According to Alon, al-Ghazâlî’s admission that God acts through physical means and his acceptance of impossibility not only in the logical domain but also in the ontological one affirm causality. Goodman proves that al-Ghazâlî, using Aristotelian axioms expressed in Islamized terminology, holds causality but rejects the philosophers’ doctrine that causes are necessary… Thus we have only a partial picture of al-Ghazâlî’s views of causality, namely that which is found in his tahâfut (Abrahamov, p. 77-78).

Rather than rehash prior, exhaustive examinations of the same doctrine, Abrahamov decided to look at three of Ghazâlî’s other works, ilyâ, k. al-arba’în, and al-maksad al asnâ, to find the rest of the picture. In al-adba’în, Abrahamov explains that Ghazâlî, “begins with the assertion that God has willed every existing thing and that everything in this perishable corporeal world (mulk) as well as in the everlasting spiritual world (malakût) happens in accordance with God’s decree (kadâ) and by His determination (kadar), judgement (hukm) and will (mashî’a)” (Abrahamov, p. 78). The issue of kadar is then framed within the context of people misinterpreting verses of the Qur’an and how:
…only God and those firmly rooted in knowledge (al-râsikûn fî’l-‘ilm) know their true meaning… Kadar, according to al-Ghazâlî, is a secret, and any attempt to understand it is forbidden. Whoever wants to know God’s secrets must obey His precepts sincerely and do what pleases Him. But if he cannot be satisfied with only devotion, he must believe (‘alayhi an ya’takida) what Abû Hanîfa and his adherents say about this matter, namely, that it is God’s action that creates power in man (ihdâth al-istitâ’a fi’l allah) while man’s action consists of using the power that was created (wa’isti’mâl al-istitâ’a al-muhdatha fi’l al-‘abd) really and not just metaphorically using it (Abrahamov, p. 78-79).

            Ghazâlî then goes on to explain four stages of God’s will and how it is manifest in the world. In the first stage, a direction for causality originating with God is established while in the second stage He “establishes (nasaba) absolute, basic, fixed and stable causes… which neither disappear nor change till the end of days” (Abrahamov, p. 80). The third stage deals with the abovementioned kadar (determination) and how God is directing cause toward their effects. And the final stage is where Ghazâlî concludes that, “nothing exists outside God’s decree and determination” (Abrahamov, p. 81). Using a parable involving a water clock, Ghazâlî writes that, “Everything that happens in this world, be it good or bad, useful or harmful, is according to God’s will, just as the clock moves according to the will of its maker” (Abrahamov, p. 83). This line of reason culminates in a compromise made between faith and philosophy. “Using the term hukm, which denotes wisdom… on the one hand, and the terms kadâ and kadar, which connote power, on the other hand, he reconciles the philosophical view that God is wisdom with the religious view that God is power” (Abrahamov, p.84). To sum up, “Man is led to act by a cause-effect chain” (Abrahamov, p. 89).
            However, it appears that contradictions exist between ihyâ and falâsifa. It is within these contradictions that questions regarding Ghazâlî’s foundational views have arisen. For example, in falâsifa, Ghazâlî uses the idea of cotton coming into contact with flames to show the direction of cause-effect while allowing for God to circumvent such rules. Abrahamov explains,

In ihyâ, al-Ghazâlî holds the opposite view. He explicitly states that it is impossible for a conditioned thing to precede a condition; e.g., volition must come after knowledge. “Possibility (imkân) means derivation (tarlîb), and derivation does not admit change (lâ yakbalu al-taghyîr).” Likewise it is impossible that God would cause plants to sprout without man sowing or that a woman should give birth without sexual intercourse (Abrahamov, p. 96).

(It is interesting to note the first argument in that last line of this passage since it is now well understood that plants existed long before humans showed up to destroy the Earth through arrogance.)
            Before moving on to other sources, Abrahamov’s conclusions are important to discuss since it is through them that an understanding of the compromise made between philosophy and Orthodox Islam can be understood. “Al-Ghazâlî’s theory,” he explains, “is that God created things and their natures and the he established the plan by which things influence each other. The condition-conditioned chain that al-Ghazâlî depicts in ihyâ is no other than the scheme he elaborates in al-maksad and k. al-arba’în” (Abrahamov, p. 97). Finally, he concludes the investigation by enumerating four facets of Ghazâlî’s causality:

By establishing a cause-effect chain with God as its First Cause and Maintainer, al-Ghazâlî affirms the following: a. God is Omnipotent and One, since He alone, at His will has created and continues to maintain the cause-effect chain. b. God acts through His wisdom and not capriciously. c. Consequently it is possible to acquire knowledge about the world, since every event or thing has a cause, and things happen or change according to a fixed scheme. d. Man is obliged to choose his actions but his choice is really compulsory too… Points a and d represent the religious view, while points b and c represent the philosophical view. (Abrahamov, p. 97-98).

            While Ghazâlî at least partially accepted causality through his discussion of fire and cotton in falâsifa, he wanted to maintain the possibility of miracles—the second of his two main objectives along this line of reasoning. Alon details Muhammad’s first objective by saying, “He accepts the concept of the “nature” of a thing, without accepting this term itself. The word he uses instead is sifah, i.e. quality (literally “description,” “attribute”)” (Alon, p. 403). Even with the concession to causality, Ghazâlî still believed in the omnipotence of Allah because of his view toward miracles. “This,” Alon explains, “Al-Ghazâlî manages to do despite his partial acceptance of causality; he agrees to reduce the miracle to a phenomenon which follows the course of nature without the usual lapse of time” (Alon, p. 403-404). That is, Allah has the power to make things that would naturally happen over long periods of time happen instead over much shorter periods of time or instantaneously. And this is a main point of departure from the mutakallimûn view that some things, such as having knowledge and life contained within the dead, are impossible even for Allah. Ghazâlî accepted the idea of impossible but, “managed to attack the extremist mutakallimûn for their rejecting any notion of impossibility of Allah” (Alon, p. 404).[10]
            Ghazâlî also departs from the Aristotelian view in how old he thinks is the universe. Goodman recognizes that in falâsifa, “Ghazâlî does not attempt to refute the Aristotelian view that matter is continuous. Nor does Ghazâlî attempt to refute the Philosopher’s notion of the continuity of time, but only to expose Aristotle’s fallacious inference that the continuity of time implies time’s perpetuity” (Goodman, p. 110). In other words, the Universe must have begun when Allah willed it so. Continuing:

If we wish to situate Ghazâlî’s own position as to causality, then he helps us a great deal by stating clearly his agreement with the Philosophers’ doctrine (which he takes them to task for not adhering to more strictly) that God is the ultimate cause of all events… but that one event within nature may be the proximate cause or effect of another and that within the frame of reference of nature and the characters with which things are created, one can even say that proximate causes must have their effects and vice versa unless other causes interfere… Thus Ghazâlî retains causality while rejecting the Philosophers’ doctrine of necessity among created causes (Goodman, p. 111).

            Addressing the concepts of nature and creation, Ghazâlî makes a particular distinction within a framework that serves to actually bolster the Aristotelian views on the subjects:

Ghazâlî has a conception of nature (khalqa) distinct from that of the Philosophers, as a divinely created character of things. What is at issue for him is not whether the familiar pattern of nature’s operation, which we have learned to expect habitually in the course of long observation, is itself necessary in the sense that things could never have been otherwise and could never become other[w]ise. Ghazâlî’s answer to that question and the answer which all monotheists inspired by the Biblical tradition would give is… implicit in acceptance of the concept of creation itself… To put the matter in terms of Ghazâlî’s paradigm example, if life were an essential and inseparable property of living thing, then life would have belonged to all living things perpetually and would be inalienable from them in concept and in fact (Goodman, p.113).

In other words, if life is intrinsic to certain collections of matter, it should be that way in perpetuity. And, if that was the case, everything that has ever lived would still live. However, we see that this is not what is experienced so it is thus rejected.
            At the outset, Goodman asked the question Did Ghazâlî Deny Causality and concludes, “[W]e have seen quite clearly from a thorough examination of his discussion on the subject, that even in the course of affirming the reality of the miraculous—of which the paradigm for Ghazâlî was the mystery of life and intelligence being imparted to what is in itself lifeless and inert matter—quite consistently he did not” (Goodman, p. 120).
            A final topic of interest is in Ghazâlî’s ideas about the concept of doubt. Introduced in his al-Munqidh min al-Dalal,[11] Rayan has this to say regarding his Method of Doubt:
                       
Al-Ghazali believes that reaching the truth of things requires knowledge of “true science.” It is apparent to him that “certain science” is the one in which the “known thing” is revealed in an undoubted way, and is not connected to the possibility of error and illusion, and the heart cannot have room to assess it. This means that al-Ghazali has doubt in every science that is not certain, and certainty for him is the criterion for the truth of things. Science is considered real only when it is absolutely certain and proves true in the face of any expression of doubt (Rayan, p. 166).

Ghazâlî used this method of doubt to shore up his developing arguments against Aristotelian views. “This thorough critical thinking,” Rayan concludes, “leads to an assessment of all types of knowledge that have been accepted for a long time, and to the shaking of trust in concepts that have been taken for granted as reliable. This in turn leads to review of the sciences according to logical criteria that are meant to distinguish the right from the wrong, the correct from the incorrect” (Rayan, p. 173).
            So, in conclusion, it appears that, after examining exhaustive research from multiple scholarly sources, Ghazâlî ultimately did not deny causality but instead sort of embraced it through the application of a glorified “God of the Gaps” argument. That is, Allah functioned as Prime Mover that set all things, including time, into motion. And this, of course, implies that free choice in humans is something that doesn’t actually exist since, “even man’s thoughts and motives are determined by God” (Abrahamov, p. 86). Although he elaborates on the concept in ihyâ, the conclusion is ultimately the same: God did it.

Bibliography
Abrahamov, Binyamin. "Al-Ghazālī's Theory of Causality." Studia Islamica, no. 67 (1988): 75-
98. doi:10.2307/1595974.
Alon, Ilai. "Al-Ghazālī on Causality." Journal of the American Oriental Society 100, no. 4
(1980): 397-405. doi:10.2307/602085.
Aristotle, et al. Aristotle: Introductory Readings. Hackett Pub., 1996.
Catlos, Brian A. Infidel Kings and Unholy Warriors: Faith, Power, and Violence in the Age of
Crusade and Jihad. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2015.
Edward Omar Moad. "Al-Ghazali on Power, Causation, and 'Acquisition'." Philosophy East and
West 57, no. 1 (2007): 1-13. http://www.jstor.org/stable/4488073.
Goodman, Lenn Evan. "Did Al-Ghazâlî Deny Causality?" Studia Islamica, no. 47 (1978): 83-
120. doi:10.2307/1595550.
Plato, and W. H. D. Rouse. Great Dialogues of Plato. New York: Signet Classics, 2008.
Rayan, Sobhi. "Al-Ghazali's Method of Doubt." Middle East Studies Association Bulletin 38, no.




[1] This is from my class notes.
[3] Brian A. Catlos, Infidel Kings and Unholy Warriors (New York 2014) p. 192.
[5] Specifically, Neoplatonist’s interpretations of Aristotle.
[6] Ibid.
[7] Lenn Evan Goodman, Did al-Ghazali Deny Causality?, p. 105.
[9] Generally speaking, the word Kalâm refers to an Islamic medieval theology. However, The Kalâm Cosmological Argument is the title of a 1979 book by William Lane Craig that elaborates on the debate Ghazâlî entered when he began discussing causality.
[10] This can easily be interpreted as a Procrustean argument, as appears to be the case for most of Ghazâlî’s line of reasoning.

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