Histories
Muslims and Christians hold much in common by way of their beliefs and yet so often it is as if a great chasm divides us. The Muslims in the news seem so alien and yet that lovely Muslim doctor at the hospital seems so friendly and sincere. Nowadays there is much talk of identity, of what it means to belong and of shared values, but sometimes there seems to be an assumption that we must all trace our values back to Hellenic roots as if this were the sole foundation of civilisation. My heart, however, has always felt comfort in the Semitic pathway. As a child, the Parables spoke to me, but Paul’s epistles did not. As an agnostic it was the Letter of James.
My burgundy-bound Bible from those days before faith is filled with scribbles in pencil, with scruffy underlining and highlighter ink: the etchings of a searching soul—but one book stands out. On the title page of the Letter of James there is a handwritten note which reads, ‘The most beautiful book in the Bible.’
I was yet to learn of Islam—yet to tread this path—but looking back now it seems clear to me that the author was a Muslim of the era before Muhammad. I am not alone in reaching this conclusion. James’ address of the 12 tribes dispersed throughout the land nods to the Judaic-Christian world, whose resemblance to another tradition has been widely noted over the years. As Hans Küng observed: ‘the traditional and historical parallels between early Judaic-Christianity and Islam are inescapable.’H Küng, Christianity and the World Religions–Paths of Dialogue with Islam, Hinduism and Buddhism (Doubleday Publishing, 1986), p.24. Indeed, while I would naturally dispute the case of dependence given my belief in revelation, Hans-Joachim Schoeps wrote in Theology and History of Jewish Christianity:
Though it may not be possible to establish exact proof of the connection, the indirect dependence of Mohammed on sectarian Jewish Christianity is beyond any reasonable doubt. This leaves us with a paradox of truly world-historical dimensions: the fact that while Jewish Christianity in the Church came to grief, it was preserved in Islam and, with regard to some of its driving impulses at least, it has lasted until our own time.H J Schoeps, Theologie und Geschichte des Judenchristentums (1949, reprinted by Hildesheim 1988), p.342.
When I put the teachings of the Letter of James and the teachings of Islam side by side, the similarities are striking. Several years ago, I began work on a small text that would do just that, for I felt that the parallel presentation conveyed meanings that have sadly escaped many. Much is made of difference when we encounter the other, but there is a great deal to be gained from highlighting the common ground.
The reality of the focus on identity, on what it means to belong, on shared values, is that what defines our present is a hugely diverse past. While the phrase ‘our Judeo-Christian heritage’ has emerged over recent years, that old focus on Hellenic and Grecian ancestry remains dominant. The truth, however, is that Semitic pathways have had a huge influence on our culture. Indeed, there is ample evidence that Europe would not have advanced as it has in science and philosophy had Semitic peoples not translated those ancient works held in such esteem: we are indebted more to Andalusia, note some of the more generous historians of our age, than to ancient Greece and Rome.
It might be said that the best starting point for any dialogue between faiths is at the beginning, returning to the fundamentals of a religion and therefore to its earliest history. A definition of fundamentalism that implies a study of history should be viewed in a positive light, recognising the origins and primal teachings of our beliefs. Yet many believers do not agree.
On Christmas Eve 2002, I listened as an Anglican bishop explained that the historical figure of Jesus was not of key importance to believers of his faith; what mattered, he argued, was what Jesus means to Christians today. This argument struck me as quite illogical for if, as Muslims contend, Jesus was actually a prophet calling his people to the worship of one God, to then worship him as God would be to stand completely against everything he stood for. Similarly, if, as Christians hold, he is in fact divine, then to deny his divinity would also be of significant consequence. In other words, the historical person of Jesus—and Muhammad—is of great importance. It is peculiar then that the view that the figure of Jesus in faith is more important than the historic person is held by a fair number of contemporary Christian theologians, recognising that the gospels present the kerygma, not an accurate historical record.
At one extreme, the writings of John Hick in The Metaphor of God Incarnate seem to make a mockery of the notion that there is religious truth. If faith becomes merely what we make it, how does that help us? If Jesus himself did not teach that he was God incarnate dying for the sins of the world, as Hick argued, is the idea that divine incarnation should be understood merely as a metaphor not simply another way of saying, ‘It doesn’t matter what he taught; I wish to believe this’?
While many theologians reject Hick’s thesis, their writings nevertheless follow a similar pattern. Against this backdrop, a definition of fundamentalism as being the conviction that the authentic version of a faith is most likely to be found in its earliest period makes perfect sense. To follow our teachers, be it Jesus in the case of Christianity or Muhammad in the case of Islam, it is obvious that we should know what they themselves taught.
Unfortunately, this task is not necessarily easy. Christian fundamentalism is often frowned upon precisely because the paucity of source material makes constructing a picture of historical reality difficult. Traditionally the image of Jesus has been based almost wholly on the narrations contained within the four Gospels, with two references to his life in the writings of Josephus now considered later Christian interpolations. Today the apocryphal writings of the Church, and the Dead Sea Scrolls and Nag Hamadi Library are viewed by some as an additional and possibly rich secondary source.
The contemporary belief that each gospel was written to present a different face of Christ highlights the problem we encounter. If the primary sources themselves were written with the intention of converting non-Christians and strengthening the faith of believers, the biographer of Jesus’ life must face the possibility that material considered unimportant in conveying a particular message has been omitted by the original authors. It is well known that if we collect all the words actually spoken by Jesus in the four Gospels, removing duplicate passages, they fit on no more than two sides of a sheet of A4 paper. Given the impact Jesus is said to have had on the life of countless generations of Christians, this is a woefully small amount of information.
The gospels do not tell us what language Jesus spoke, with Aramaic, Hebrew, Greek, Syriac and a Galilaean dialect of Chaldic all having been suggested as possibilities by scholars of Christianity. The gospels fail to teach us any of the doctrines later adopted by the church, and we note that the Nicene Creed is 41 lines longer than the earliest creed known to us.FJ Badcock, The History of the Creeds (SPCK, 1938), p.24.
Nor do the gospels help us to understand that Palestine at the time was under Roman occupation; they are lacking in both historical and geographical accuracy. More importantly, the gospels do not tell us anything about the authors of the books; we are merely provided with first names and are then left to guess their relationship to Jesus, whether they were eyewitnesses to the events of his life, whether they were known for their honesty and what their role in the early church was. The seasoned argument that the four gospels prove to be reliable witnesses by virtue of the fact that they agree on the main points but differ on a few of the details, pointing to the fact that the authors did not collude in their accounts, is unsurprisingly not supported by many biblical scholars. Evidence of copying from Mark is brought out by some, whilst others argue for the existence of an earlier primal document which they label Q.
It is perhaps predictable, therefore, that many Christians are cynical about fundamentalism and its claim to seek the authentic version of a faith in the earliest period. Yet this concern is not necessarily universal. There is some evidence that the earliest Muslims took the preservation of the Islamic message more seriously, providing us with a rich source of information about Muhammad’s appearance, conduct, manners and tastes. We have an idea of what he looked like, the colour of his hair, how he dressed and the speed of his walk, which is why the infamous controversy about cartoons said to depict the Prophet passed many practising Muslims by: the illustrations bore no resemblance to him whatsoever, but reminded them of early 20th century caricatures of the great scheming hook-nosed Jew instead.
In terms of substance, the collected sayings and deeds attributed to Muhammad—known as the hadith—could be equated with the gospel accounts, since the Qur’an is considered a book of revelation brought down by the Angel Gabriel. It is notable that the Muslim community was concerned with documenting and committing to memory every verse of the Qur’an during the lifetime of Muhammad himself. In their midst, he dictated, explained and arranged every verse of the Qur’an and, following his death, his community took it upon itself to continue to preserve it meticulously. It was precisely because the Qur’an states that the previous scriptures had been corrupted from within that the Muslim community considered it crucial to put in place mechanisms that would preserve the final revelation.
When I set out to learn the Qur’an myself, I was struck by the absolute precision demanded by my teacher, each pronunciation analysed in great depth, each verse studied as I tried to commit it to memory. In turn, the same is required of him by his teacher as he moves from memorising the entire Qur’an to mastering each of the dialects in which it was revealed. Indeed, the same is true of his teacher’s teacher as the science passes from generation to generation.
In order to safeguard both the Qur’an and the narrations concerning the details of Muhammad’s life, the later community established an elaborate structure based on the law of witness to diminish the risks usually encountered when passing information on from one person to another.MM Al-Azami, The History of the Qur’anic Text from Revelation to Compilation (UKIA, 2003), p.167. During his lifetime, some of his companions would relate his words and actions to one another by saying, ‘The Prophet said/did such and such.’ When such a report was mentioned to a further person, the source would be related along with what was said or done: ‘Aisha said the Prophet said such and such.’
As time passed by, a group of scholars began to examine the source of all information which they received, so that by the end of the first century of the Muslim calendar the practice had become an enterprise in its own right. For a report to be accepted, the scholars of hadith demanded that four conditions be met: that it was accurate, that all narrators in the chain of narration were trustworthy, that the chain of transmission was unbroken and that there was positive support for the statement from all other available evidence.
During the second half of the first century of the Muslim calendar, the sayings of Muhammad began to be categorised by subject in booklets. Again some scholars considered it necessary to establish a means of protecting the content of these books from possible adulteration. They therefore required any scholar involved in passing on his sayings to be in direct contact with the person to whom they were being passed. So insistent were they on the role of witness that they considered the use of a book without hearing it from the author tantamount to giving false evidence.
A personal commentary added to a book had to be signed, or else it would be considered to invalidate the text. Rigorous controls were instated even when it came to using books of the sayings of Muhammad, where reading certificates which amounted to licences were mandatory. When transmitting such books, a detailed record of the attendance at the gathering was taken and added to the reading certificate, which then became an exclusive authorisation for those listed in it to read, teach, copy or quote from that book.
Early in my journey of faith I became interested in the issue of safeguarding knowledge now that technology had brought publishing within virtually anyone’s grasp. As a new Muslim I was interested in the question of what constituted knowledge, given that I was able to lay my hands on any number of books on Islamic topics without really knowing anything about their authors. It was because of this that I decided to write my postgraduate dissertation on this subject, proposing a concept of review and accreditation for popular Islamic publishing in the United Kingdom.
I began reflecting on this again more recently after encountering individuals sharing sincere advice with others on matters pertaining to our religion. The act in itself may have been commendable, but I was troubled by the fact that the advice was offered by those who cared not to reveal their name. One would understand that someone in fear of their life or prosecution might seek refuge in anonymity, but each of the cases I witnessed had been quite straightforward: the photographer receiving an anonymous letter warning him about his trade; the commentary on music published by a concerned anonymous Muslim; a writer given firm but kind advice by an unknown aide.
Compare this to the apparently enlightened days of our community. A reading certificate defined which books scholars could use, while a record of regular attendance was always kept by those promulgating books of hadith. Details were kept of who had listened to the entire book, who had joined in partially, which portions they had missed and the dates and location of the readings. The certificate was an exclusive licence for those listed within to read, teach, copy and quote from that book.MM Al-Azami, The History of the Qur’anic Text from Revelation to Compilation (UKIA, 2003), p.185.
Muslims were so concerned about the preservation of their teachings that an entire field developed to determine the authenticity of hadith. In their Guide to Sira and Hadith Literature in Western Languages, Anees and Athar wrote about the field of hadith criticism:
‘It is the only branch of knowledge that requires personal ethical responsibility on the part of individuals who involve themselves in this endeavour. In its quest for exactitude, it held accountable those who transmitted information.’MA Anees and AN Athar, Guide to Sira and Hadith Literature in Western Languages (Mansell Publishing, 1986), p.xiii
By contrast, in the case of my recent encounters we did not know if the anonymous author was X, son of Y, student of Z, nor where they had obtained their learning, nor whether they were trustworthy or not. Consequently, I found myself pondering the question I had first asked when I was very new to Islam. At the time—considering an Islamic heritage that placed great emphasis on the authentication of knowledge—I was interested in whether there was a case for the establishment of a review body, modelled not just on Muslim tradition but also on the structures of peer review set up in the scientific and academic publishing industries.
In a society that argues that there is no absolute truth, only contingent truths, the claim that Islamic knowledge needs protection can obviously be considered an affront to the concept of freedom of speech—indeed, to the freedom of individual Muslims to make their own fatwa. Two authors writing about publishing in Muslim countries almost a decade ago noted that the books now published by Muslims in great quantities, ‘set aside the long tradition of authoritative discourse by religious scholars in favour of a direct understanding of texts. Today chemists and medical doctors can interpret Islamic principles as equals with scholars who have graduated from traditional centres of learning.’DF Eickelman and JW Anderson, ‘Publishing in Muslim countries: less censorship, new audiences and rise of the ‘Islamic’ book’ in LOGOS (Whurr Publishers, 1997), 8⁄4.
While many advocates of unrestricted free speech would welcome such a development, I argued that apart from opening our religion to the general threat of corruption, it could be used to support actions which have disastrous consequences. I had in mind wanton acts of violence, but the possibilities are endless. I was in favour, therefore, of the tradition which saw scholars confident of their role as guardians of knowledge. I noted that, writing in Knowledge Triumphant: The Concept of Knowledge in Medieval Islam, Franz Rosenthal argued that there was little that later influences and developments were able to accomplish by way of injecting new ideas into what constituted Islamic knowledge.F Rosenthal, Knowledge Triumphant:The Concept of Knowledge in Medieval Islam (EJ Brill, 1970), p.19.
In Muslim tradition, a report concerned with matters of religion was always scrutinised for reliability on the basis of two factors: the study of the text itself and consideration of its chain of narration. The well-known orientalist, Montgomery Watt, explained:
The chains of transmitters were therefore carefully scrutinised to make sure that the persons named could in fact have met one another, that they could be trusted to repeat the story accurately, and that they did not hold any heretical views. This implied extensive biographical studies; and many biographical dictionaries have been preserved giving the basic information about a man’s teachers and pupils, the views of later scholars and the date of his death.M Watt, What is Islam? (Longman, Green and Company, 1968), pp.124-125.
When a Muslim considers the reports presented in the Bible, the first thing with which they are faced is the absence of a chain of narration. The Jewish scholar, Bernard Lewis, wrote:
From an early date Muslim scholars recognized the danger of false testimony and hence false doctrine, and developed an elaborate science for criticizing tradition.
‘Traditional science’, as it was called, differed in many respects from modern historical source criticism, and modern scholarship has always disagreed with evaluations of traditional scientists about the authenticity and accuracy of ancient narratives. But their careful scrutiny of the chains of transmission and their meticulous collection and preservation of variants in the transmitted narratives give to medieval Arabic historiography a professionalism and sophistication without precedent in antiquity and without parallel in the contemporary medieval West. By comparison, the historiography of Latin Christendom seems poor and meagre, and even the more advanced and complex historiography of Greek Christendom still falls short of the historical literature of Islam in volume, variety and analytical depth.B Lewis, Islam in History (Open Court Publishing, 1993), pp.104-105.
During the month of Rabi’ Al-Awwal each year many Muslims remember our Prophet’s birth and life. The first time I encountered such commemorations—only a couple of years ago—I listened to a fascinating talk detailing his noble character, followed by recitation of poetry and then dinner.
On another occasion I listened as a group of Muslims, young and old, studied the Prophet’s sunna, reading from an-Nawawi’s Riyad al-Salihin, before spending over an hour reading poetry about him aloud. As I pondered on those I witnessed expressing such love for the Prophet as they read his biography and his sunna one year, I realised that I did not know him as I should. Taking note of my distance from his noble example I concluded that I too should pick up his sira again and read.
For those who believe in divine revelation, authority lies at the heart of our way of life. Religion is not belief in doubt or uncertainty: it is confidence, trust and reliance. It is the belief that God has sent us guidance. ‘And verily We have raised in every nation a messenger proclaiming: serve God and shun false gods…’From Qur’an 16:36.
