ISLAMIC CONTRIBUTIONS IN THE MEDIEVAL AGES

TO CONTEMPORARY WESTERN EDUCATION

 

By Bader Malek, Ph.D.

Latefah Al-Kanderi, Ph.D.

Second Edition

 

Introduction

 

In September 2000 Penn State University held a conference entitled, “Teaching the Middle Ages Across the Curriculum,” organized by the Center for Medieval Studies.  We spoke on several of the significant concepts medieval Islamic society has contributed to contemporary Western education.  This discussion will explain the influences of Islamic civilization, which extends from Spain to Afghanistan, as is has been inspired by the Holy Qur’an and Prophetic sayings.

As with other modern societies, there is no doubt that Islamic civilization contains many unique features as well as being influenced by other cultural factors from India, Greece, Italy, Persia, Egypt, and China.  During the great cultural awakening after the rise of Islam in the seventh century, Muslim scholars carefully formed, gathered, translated, preserved, and refined knowledge from many sources at a time when Europe was largely intolerant of pagan traditions.  Islamic scholars incorporated this abundance of inspirations in creative ways.  In Islam, all races and nations are one, but the best people, as Allah says, are the most righteous of you.  There are no advantages due to race, gender, or nationality, for Allah wants to unite humanity in solidarity and mutual respect.  The Qur’an sums up this vital concept in one beautiful verse:

O mankind! We created you from a single (pair) of a male and a female, and made you into nations and tribes, that ye may know each other (not that ye may despise each other).  Verily the most honoured of you in the sight of Allah is the most righteous of you.  And Allah has full knowledge and is well acquainted (with all things) (49:13).

 

Islam accepts all the goodness that civilizations can yield.  It does not encourage dissidence among its members because it advocates the unity of humanity and the closeness of the relationships among people of different races and inclinations (Qutub, 1994).  This is not to say that Western scholars do not appreciate the countless Islamic contributions to education, both in theory and practice.  Durant (1950, p. 341) says “The rise and decline of Islamic civilization is one of the major phenomena of history.  For five centuries, from 700 to 1200, Islam led the world in power, order, and extent of government; in refinement of manners; in standards of living; in humane legislation and religious tolerance; in literature, scholarship, science, medicine, and philosophy.”  The texts of Al-Khawarizmi (780-850) in algebra, Avicenna (979-1037) in medicine, and others were used in European universities into the 17th century.

Islamic society was strong in medieval times because there was a unity of purpose among all Muslims.  They spoke the same language, they worshipped the same God in the same manner, and openly stated that their goal was cooperation, rather than factioning..

In the literature of the history of education, however, there are few remarks noting the contributions of Muslim educators.  As the great philosopher John Dewey (1993) acknowledges, we often overlook the indebtedness of Christian civilization to Islamic civilization, which was far more developed at that time.  Muslim researchers in the field of education have a rich heritage full of spirituality.  Their literature needs to be presented academically and publicly to invalidate the accusations of extreme materialism, systematic misrepresentation, and historical prejudice that currently exist in the West regarding Islam.

Many significant Islamic influences on Western education and civilization are still relatively unfamiliar, which makes it difficult to appreciate the positive contributions this culture has made on Western development.  This article will present some of these contributions to education, and highlight the role of Islam in the evolution of the Western world.

 

Background

 

During the Crusades, Europe began to establish more hospitals and schools, many of which were inspired by Muslims.  Muslim educational philosophers declared that teaching required special preparation and training programs.  In 10th century Baghdad, hundreds of students took examinations each year before they could work in hospitals.  Many Europeans studied in Islamic universities and carried their experiences back to their home countries.  This interaction was not continuous.  There were times, such as during the Crusades, when groups from one faith would discourage interactions with those from other faiths, particularly Christians against Muslims.  But prior to this period, educational institutions in Spain were among the important centers through which European scholars studied the East and its culture.  During the Renaissance, Europeans alternately considered the East as friendly neighbor and hostile enemy.  One can imagine them looking with fresh interest at those who lived in neighboring areas, whether to control them or to understand them.  Burnett, (1996) mentions that, Contacts between Christians and Muslims were not always hostile.  “Ambassadors were sent back and forth, trade was brisk” (p.108).
Islamic Contributions to Western Educational Theory and Practice

 

Mathematics

 

One example of Islamic origins of Western mathematical education is the system of Arabic numeral notation and decimals.  These numbering and counting systems (called ‘Arabic numerals’) were developed by Muslim mathematicians, and are still in use today.  The words “zero” and “algebra” are derived from their original Arabic names.  Muslim scholars can take “credit for rescuing the useful zero from the heart of India and putting it to work in the elaboration of the decimal system, without which the achievements of modern science would be impossible” (Cobb, 1965).  As just one illustration, Zahoor and Haq (1997) explain the importance of the symbol for “zero” as a critical step to the arithmetic of positions.  With the implementation of the Arabic numbering system, elementary calculations were perfected and the relationships among the equal and the unequal and prime numbers, and squares and cubes, were elaborated.  Definition of algebra led to discussion of geometry.  In about 820 A.D., the mathematician Al-Khawarizmi wrote a textbook of Algebra in examples (subsequently translated into Latin), which was used by Western scholars as recently as the 16th century (Zahoor & Haq).

 

Language

 

Mathematics is not the only subject influenced by Islam.  Many common words in English and some of the European languages have been drawn from Arabic words.  Some examples of English words of Arabic origin are admiral (AMEER AL-Ma’), alchemy, alcohol, algebra, almanac, attar, candy, cotton, gazelle, henna, gibraltar, giraffe, jar, jasmine, kohl, lemon, safari, sesame, sharif, sherbet, sofa, spinach, and wadi.

Muessig and Allen (1962) acknowledge Western education’s debt to Islam and assert that it would be difficult to find a course or field without Islamic influence, even though it may not be presented as such.  A high school home economics teacher, for example, may use food names with an Islamic origin, such as sugar.  An arithmetic teacher presenting a lesson on the importance of zero as a place-holder may not realize that the term is of Arabic origin.  High school algebra instructors use words of Arabian origin, and teach concepts developed by Muslims.  A professor in the science of pharmacy may not realize that Islamic scholars were pioneers in this field, as well.

An Islamic inspiration is evident in western literature, as well.  For instance, Robinson Crusoe by Defoe is sourced in “Message from Hai Ben Yakzan,” which was written by the Muslim philosopher Ibn Tofail.  “The Arabian Nights” has been repeatedly published worldwide, and its stories have affected many writers.[1]

Muslims encouraged the accessibility of library materials to the general public, and the spreading of general enlightenment.  Public and private libraries in Islamic civilizations reflect that books were often read.  Various sources report that Al-Hakam gathered some 600,000 volumes in Al-Andalus.  To compare this to later collections, the Royal Library of France was said to have only 900 volumes approximately 400 years later (see Muessig & Allen, 1962, p. 152).  In that era, some hospitals and clinics even had libraries.  Durant (1950, vol. 4, pp. 330-331) mentions that great hospitals would often provide professional storytellers for the sleepless.  Thus, knowledge was a gateway to serve the community.

 

Science

 

Great volumes of Arabic and Greek scientific research were translated into Latin during the 12th and 13th centuries, which had a great impact upon the European Renaissance.  Another example of the influence of Islamic learning on the West can be noted in the organized translation into Latin of many Islamic scholarly works in such fields as science and philosophy.

Muslims in the medieval ages refined and applied the experimental methods of science and attitude. They studied mathematics, medicine, chemistry, astronomy, geography, and other academic areas.  Working in laboratories was a customary part of their research efforts.  Their methods of gathering information in a systematic fashion were quite workable, and have provided a foundation for the systems in use today.

Muslims had established laboratories over one thousand years ago in which they conducted experiments and published their discoveries, without which Lavoisier would not have been able to produce anything in his field.  Modern chemistry is sourced in the research and experimentation of Muslim scientists, which is demonstrated in such great scientific discoveries as steam, electricity, telegraphy, telephony, and radio signals (Zahoor & Haq, 1997).

Avicenna in his Canon  of Medicine (al-Qanun fi at-tibb) became the most authoritative medical text of the Middle Ages, and was used in European medical schools, passing through numerous editions.  Western scholars recognize that this text has been revered as a medical bible for a longer period than any other work (Cobb, 1965 and Myers 1964).  It is a systematic encyclopedia based, for the most part, on the achievements of Greek physicians of the Roman imperial age and other Arabic works and, to a lesser extent, on Avicenna’ own experiences (his own clinical notes were lost during his journeys).  Encyclopaedia Britannica (2000) calls the Canon of Medicine the world’s most famous single book in the history of medicine.

Gobb (1963) in his book Islamic Contribution to Civilization, studied Islamic history in depth in an appreciative and cordial manner.  About significant contributions made by Muslims he says; “For more than five centuries that civilization not only led the world in science, but was the only portion of mankind actively engaged in the systematic pursuit of knowledge” (p. 5).

 

Education

 

Perhaps the most profound and vital contribution of Muslims to educational theory is demonstrated by their advocacy of universal, free education.  Islam encourages the education of capable boys and girls of all stations of life, and the acceptance of teachers of different races and persuasions.  Long before western Europeans championed the concept of educational opportunities for everyone, the Muslims had implemented this philosophy in a variety of ways.  In many respects, Muslims predated Western educational practices by over a millennium. Muslims were the first to structure higher education as we know it, and there is a clear influence on Western scholarship by Islamic institutions.  Bait al-Hikma, the first recorded Muslim university, was established early in the 9th century.  The Muslims passed on the concept of specialization of universities within a narrow range of subjects, endowed chairs, scholarships for the needy, public financial support, establishment of endowments, auditing of courses, organization of academic disciplines, and student selection of field and advisor. Many Western scholars were included among the students — men who later became Catholic Popes and church scholars, university professors, authors, scientists, and physicians (Muessig & Allen, 1962).

Children of even the lowest socioeconomic status are entitled to know the romance of learning.  There are many examples of desperately poor Islamic students who obtained an education and who subsequently became eminent scholars in their own right, to whom others would come seeking knowledge.  Bilal Bin Rabah and Ata’ Bin Abi Rabah are clear examples of students taking advantage of these opportunities.  Islam lifts its adherents above consciousness of race or color, establishing an effective brotherhood in the name of Allah.

Islam has established a legacy of outstanding moral guidelines, which there is a crying need for in contemporary society.  The propagation of Islamic virtues would eliminate the dissension caused by racial discrimination among peoples (Toynbee, 1957, p. 205).  God tells us in the Holy Qur’an, “And among His signs is the creation of the heavens and the earth, and the variations in your languages and your colours.  Verily in these are signs for those who know” (30:22).

 

Summary

 

The immense value of the influences of Islamic knowledge on western culture and education is underestimated by even knowledgeable scholars.  Full disclosure and acknowledgment of these contributions is necessary to helping all educators understand the history of their field.

Muslim educational philosophers have a rich heritage full of spirituality.  Their research needs to be publicized not only to expand the operating knowledge of educators worldwide, but also to disprove accusations of materialism and refute historical prejudice that currently exists in the West regarding Islam.

Today’s, scholars attempt to build bridges that manifest a growing climate of openness and mutual respect in order to understand religions.  Furthermore, there is a strong tendency among some Orientalists to study Islam to find a common ground where they can usefully agree with Muslims.

Appendix 1

Encyclopædia Britannica Article

 

 

Education

Muslim educational activity began in the 8th century, primarily in order to disseminate the teaching of the Qurʾān and the sunnah of the Prophet. The first task in this endeavor was to record the oral traditions and collect the written manuscripts. This information was systematically organized in the 2nd century AH, and in the following century a sound corpus was agreed upon. This vast activity of “seeking knowledge” (ṭalab al-ʿilm) resulted in the creation of specifically Arab sciences of tradition, history, and literature.

When the introduction of the Greek sciences—philosophy, medicine, and mathematics—created a formidable body of lay knowledge, a creative reaction on the traditional religious base resulted in the rationalist theological movement of the Muʿtazilah. Based on that Greek legacy, from the 9th to the 12th century AD a brilliant philosophical movement flowered and presented a challenge to orthodoxy on the issues of the eternity of the world, the doctrine of revelation, and the status of the Sharīʿah.

The orthodox met the challenges positively by formulating the religious dogma. At the same time, however, for fear of heresies, they began to draw a sharp distinction between religious and secular sciences. The custodians of the Sharīʿah developed an unsympathetic attitude toward the secular disciplines and excluded them from the curriculum of the madrasah (college) system.

Their exclusion from the Sunnī system of education proved fatal, not only for those disciplines but, in the long run, for religious thought in general because of the lack of intellectual challenge and stimulation. A typical madrasah curriculum included logic (which was considered necessary as an “instrumental” science for the formal correctness of thinking procedure), Arabic literature, law, Ḥadīth, Qurʾān commentary, and theology. Despite sporadic criticism from certain quarters, the madrasah system remained impervious to change.

One important feature of Muslim education was that primary education (which consisted of Qurʾān reading, writing, and rudimentary arithmetic) did not feed candidates to institutions of higher education, and the two remained separate. In higher education, emphasis was on books rather than on subjects and on commentaries rather than on original works. This, coupled with the habit of learning by rote (which was developed from the basically traditional character of knowledge that encouraged learning more than thinking), impoverished intellectual creativity still further.

Despite these grave shortcomings, however, the madrasah produced one important advantage. Through the uniformity of its religio-legal content, it gave the ʿulamāʾ the opportunity to effect that overall cohesiveness and unity of thought and purpose that, despite great variations in local Muslim cultures, has become a palpable feature of the world Muslim community. This uniformity has withstood even the serious tension created against the seats of formal learning by Ṣūfism through its peculiar discipline and its own centres.

In contrast to the Sunnī attitude toward it, philosophy continued to be seriously cultivated among the Shīʿah, even though it developed a strong religious character. Indeed, philosophy has enjoyed an unbroken tradition in Persia down to the present and has produced some highly original thinkers. Both the Sunnī and the Shīʿah medieval systems of learning, however, have come face to face with the greatest challenge of all—the impact of modern education and thought.

Organization of education developed naturally in the course of time. Evidence exists of small schools already established in the first century of Islām that were devoted to reading, writing, and instruction in the Qurʾān. These schools of “primary” education were called kuttābs. The well-known governor of Iraq at the beginning of the 8th century, the ruthless al-Ḥajjāj, had been a schoolteacher in his early career. When higher learning in the form of tradition grew in the 8th and 9th centuries, it was centred around learned men to whom students travelled from far and near and from whom they obtained a certificate (ijāzah) to teach what they had learned. Through the munificence of rulers and princes, large private and public libraries were built, and schools and colleges arose. In the early 9th century a significant incentive to learning came from the translations made of scientific and philosophical works from the Greek (and partly Sanskrit) at the famous bayt al-ḥikmah (“house of wisdom”) at Baghdad, which was officially sponsored by the caliph al-Maʾmūn. The Fāṭimid caliph al-Ḥākim set up a dār alḥikmah (“hall of wisdom”) in Cairo in the 10th–11th centuries. With the advent of the Seljuq Turks, the famous vizier Niẓām al-Mulk created an important college at Baghdad, devoted to Sunnī learning, in the latter half of the 11th century. One of the world’s oldest surviving universities, al-Azhar at Cairo, was originally established by the Fāṭimids, but Saladin (Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn al-Ayyūbī), after ousting the Fāṭimids, consecrated it to Sunnī learning in the 12th century. Throughout subsequent centuries, colleges and quasi-universities (called madrasah or dār al-ʿulūm) arose throughout the Muslim world from Spain (whence philosophy and science were transmitted to the Latin West) across Central Asia to India.

In Turkey a new style of madrasah came into existence; it had four wings, for the teaching of the four schools of Sunnī law. Professorial chairs were endowed in large colleges by princes and governments, and residential students were supported by college endowment funds. A myriad of smaller centres of learning were endowed by private donations” (Islām. (2010). Encyclopædia Britannica. Encyclopaedia Britannica Ultimate Reference Suite.  Chicago: Encyclopædia Britannica.).

 

Appendix 2

Ibn Khaldūn

Encyclopædia Britannica Article

Introduction

in full  Walī al-Dīn ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ibn Muḥammad ibn Muḥammad ibn Abī Bakr Muḥammad ibn al-Ḥasan Ibn Khaldūn  

born May 27, 1332, Tunis [Tunisia]

 

died March 17, 1406, Cairo, Egypt

the greatest Arab historian, who developed one of the earliest nonreligious philosophies of history, contained in his masterpiece, the Muqaddimah (“Introduction”). He also wrote a definitive history of Muslim North Africa.

With the help of order generic cialis raindogscine.com you can reignite your relationship by finding the spark and intimacy in your relationship and if you want to gain that intimacy, then you need to do a good workout daily and consume a healthy meal.
 

Background and early life

Ibn Khaldūn was born in Tunis in 1332; the Khaldūniyyah quarter in Tunis still stands almost unchanged and, in it, the house where he is believed to have been born.

As Ibn Khaldūn relates in his autobiography (Al-taʿrīf bi Ibn Khaldūn), the family claimed descent from Khaldūn, who was of South Arabian stock, and had come to Spain in the early years of the Arab conquest and settled in Carmona. The family subsequently moved to Sevilla (Seville), played an important part in the civil wars of the 9th century, and was long reckoned among the three leading houses of that city. In the course of the next four centuries, the Ibn Khaldūns successively held high administrative and political posts under the Umayyad, Almoravid, and Almohad dynasties; other members of the family served in the army, and several were killed at the Battle of Al-Zallāqah (1086), which temporarily halted the Christian reconquest of Spain. But the respite thus won proved short, and in 1248, just before the fall of Sevilla and Córdoba, the Ibn Khaldūns and many of their countrymen judged it prudent to cross the Straits of Gibraltar and landed at Sabtah (now Ceuta, a Spanish exclave), on the northern coast of Morocco.

There the refugees from Spain were of a much higher level of socio-economic status than the local North Africans, and the family was soon called to occupy the leading administrative posts in Tunis. The historian’s father also became an administrator and soldier but soon abandoned his career to devote himself to the study of theology, law, and letters. In Ibn Khaldūn’s words:

He was outstanding in his knowledge of Arabic and had an understanding of poetry in its different forms and I can well remember how the men of letters sought his opinion in matters of dispute and submitted their works to him.

In 1349, however, the Black Death struck Tunis and took away both his father and his mother.

 

Education and diplomatic career

Ibn Khaldūn gives a detailed account of his education, listing the main books he read and describing the life and works of his teachers. He memorized the Qurʾān, studied its principal commentaries, gained a good grounding in Muslim law, familiarized himself with the masterpieces of Arabic literature, and acquired a clear and forceful style and a capacity for writing fluent verse that was to serve him well in later life when addressing eulogistic or supplicatory poems to various rulers. Striking by their absence are books on philosophy, history, geography, or other social sciences; this does not mean that he did not study these subjects—scholars know that he wrote summaries of several books by the 12th-century Arab philosopher Averroës—but it is to be presumed that Ibn Khaldūn acquired most of his very impressive knowledge in these fields after he had completed his formal education.

This came at age 20, when he was given a post at the court of Tunis, followed three years later by a secretaryship to the sultan of Morocco in Fez (Fès). By then he was married. After two years of service, however, he was suspected of participation in a rebellion and was imprisoned. Released after nearly two years and promoted by a new ruler, he again fell into disfavour, decided to leave Morocco, and crossed over to Granada, for whose Muslim ruler he had done some service in Fez and whose prime minister, the brilliant writer Ibn al-Khaṭīb, was a good friend. Ibn Khaldūn was then 32 years old.

The following year Ibn Khaldūn was sent to Sevilla to conclude a peace treaty with Pedro I of Castile. There he saw “the monuments of my ancestors.” Pedro “treated me with the utmost generosity, expressed his satisfaction at my presence and showed awareness of the preeminence of our ancestors in Sevilla.” Pedro even offered him a post in his service, promising to restore his ancestral estates, but Ibn Khaldūn politely declined. He gladly accepted the village that the sultan of Granada bestowed on him, however, and, feeling once more secure, brought over his family, whom he had left in safety in Constantine. But, to quote him once more, “enemies and intriguers” turned the all-powerful prime minister, Ibn al-Khaṭīb, against him and raised suspicions regarding his loyalty; it can be conjectured that the task of these enemies must have been greatly facilitated by the apparent jealousy between the two most brilliant Arab intellectuals of the age. Once more, Ibn Khaldūn found it necessary to take his leave, and he returned to Africa. The following 10 years saw him change employers and employment with disconcerting rapidity and move from Bejaïa (Bougie) to Tilimsān (Tlemcen), Biskra, Fez, and once more to Granada, where he made an unsuccessful effort to save his old rival and friend, Ibn al-Khaṭīb, from being killed by order of its ruler.

During this period Ibn Khaldūn served as prime minister and in several other administrative capacities, led a punitive expedition, was robbed and stripped by nomads, and spent some time “studying and teaching.” This extreme mobility is partly explained by the instability of the times. The Almohad Empire, which had embraced the whole of North Africa and Muslim Spain, had broken down in the middle of the 13th century, and the convulsive process from which Morocco, Algeria, and Tunisia were subsequently to emerge was under way; wars, rebellions, and intrigues were endemic, and no man’s life or employment was secure. But in Ibn Khaldūn’s case two additional factors might be suspected—a certain restlessness and a capacity to make enemies, which may account for his constant complaints about the “intriguers” who turned his employers against him.

 

The Muqaddimah: Ibn Khaldūn’s philosophy of history

In 1375, craving solitude from the exhausting business of politics, Ibn Khaldūn took the most momentous step of his life: he sought refuge with the tribe of Awlād ʿArīf, who lodged him and his family in the safety of a castle, Qalʿat ibn Salāmah, near what is now the town of Frenda, Algeria. There he spent four years, “free from all preoccupations,” and wrote his massive masterpiece, the Muqaddimah, an introduction to history. His original intention, which he subsequently achieved, was to write a universal history of the Arabs and Berbers, but before doing so he judged it necessary to discuss historical method, with the aim of providing the criteria necessary for distinguishing historical truth from error. This led him to formulate what the 20th-century English historian Arnold Toynbee has described as “a philosophy of history which is undoubtedly the greatest work of its kind that has ever yet been created by any mind in any time or place,” a statement that goes even beyond the earlier eulogy by Robert Flint:

As a theorist on history he had no equal in any age or country until Vico appeared, more than three hundred years later. Plato, Aristotle and Augustine were not his peers . . . .

But Ibn Khaldūn went even further. His study of the nature of society and social change led him to evolve what he clearly saw was a new science, which he called ʿilm al-ʿumrān (“the science of culture”) and which he defined thus:

This science . . . has its own subject, viz., human society, and its own problems, viz., the social transformations that succeed each other in the nature of society.

Indeed it is not too much to claim, as did a contemporary Arab scholar, Sāṭiʿ al-Ḥuṣrī, that in Book I of the Muqaddimah, Ibn Khaldūn sketches a general sociology; in Books II and III, a sociology of politics; in Book IV, a sociology of urban life; in Book V, a sociology of economics; and in Book VI, a sociology of knowledge. The work is studded with brilliant observations on historiography, economics, politics, and education. It is held together by his central concept of ʿaṣabiyyah, or “social cohesion.” It is this cohesion, which arises spontaneously in tribes and other small kinship groups, but which can be intensified and enlarged by a religious ideology, that provides the motive force that carries ruling groups to power. Its inevitable weakening, due to a complex combination of psychological, sociological, economic, and political factors, which Ibn Khaldūn analyzes with consummate skill, heralds the decline of a dynasty or empire and prepares the way for a new one, based on a group bound by a stronger cohesive force.

It is difficult to overstress Ibn Khaldūn’s amazing originality. Muhsin Mahdi, a contemporary Iraqi-American scholar, has shown how much his approach and fundamental concepts owe to classical Islamic theology and philosophy, especially Averroism. And, of course, he drew liberally on the historical information accumulated by his predecessors and was doubtless influenced by their judgments. But nothing in these sources or, indeed, in any known Greek or Latin author can explain his deep insight into social phenomena, his firm grasp of the links binding the innumerable and apparently unrelated events that constitute the process of historical and social change.

One last point should be made regarding his basic philosophy of history. Clearly, for Ibn Khaldūn, history was an endless cycle of flowering and decay, with no evolution or progress except for that from primitive to civilized society. But, in brief descriptions of his own age, which have not received as much attention as they deserve, he showed that he could both visualize the existence of sharp turning points in history and recognize that he was witnessing one of them: “When there is a general change of conditions . . . as if it were a new and repeated creation, a world brought into existence anew.” The main cause he gives for this great change is the Black Death, with its profound effect on Muslim society, but he was fully aware of the impact of the Mongol invasions, and he may also have been impressed by the development of Europe, the merchants and ships of which thronged the seaports of North Africa and some of the soldiers of which served as mercenaries in the Muslim armies.

 

Journey to Egypt

During his stay in Qalʿat ibn Salāmah, Ibn Khaldūn not only completed the first draft of the Muqaddimah but he also wrote part of his massive history, Kitāb al-ʿIbār, a work that is not of such universal significance but which does constitute the best single source on the history of Muslim North Africa. Such a task, however, required frequent reference to other books and archives; this, together perhaps with nostalgia for the more active world of politics, drew him back to city life. A severe illness finally convinced him to leave his refuge; he secured permission to return to Tunis, where he “engaged exclusively in scholarly work,” completing much of his history. But once more he aroused both the jealousy of a prominent scholar and the suspicion of the ruler, and in 1382, at age 50, he received permission to sail to Egypt, ostensibly for the purpose of performing the pilgrimage to Mecca.

After 40 days Ibn Khaldūn landed in Alexandria and shortly afterward was in Cairo, then, as now, by far the largest and most opulent city in the Arab world. Its impact on him was profound: “I saw the metropolis of the ear, the garden of the world, the gathering place of the nations . . . the palace of Islam, the seat of dominion . . . .” His curiosity about Cairo was evidently of long duration, for he quotes the replies several eminent North Africans had made to his enquiries on their return from that city, including: “He who has not seen it does not know the power of Islam.”

Within a few days “scholars thronged on me, seeking profit in spite of the scarcity of merchandise [!] and would not accept my excuses, so I started teaching at Al-Azhar,” the famous Islamic university. Shortly afterward, the new Mamlūk ruler of Egypt, Barqūq, with whom he was to remain on good terms except for one or two brief periods of misunderstanding, appointed him to a professorship of jurisprudence at the Quamḥiyyah college and, within five months, made him chief judge of the Mālikī rite, one of the four recognized rites of Sunnite Islam. Barqūq also successfully interceded with the ruler of Tunis to allow Ibn Khaldūn’s family to rejoin him, but the ship carrying them foundered in the port of Alexandria, drowning all on board.

 

Later years

Ibn Khaldūn took his judicial duties quite seriously; he claimed to have been guided in his judgments solely by the merits of each case and attempted to reform the numerous abuses that had developed in the administration of justice. He must have struck the tolerant and easygoing Egyptians as somewhat dour and puritanical, and his own opinion is recorded by one of his students: “These Egyptians behave as though the Day of Judgement would never come!” At any rate, “trouble gathered against me from every quarter and darkened the atmosphere between me and the rulers”; he was dismissed and served again as chief judge only for one year, toward the end of his life. But he was given another professorship—he pointed out that endowed chairs were plentiful in Cairo—and spent his time teaching, writing, and revising his Muqaddimah. He was also able to perform the pilgrimage to Mecca, sailing from Al-Ṭawr, near Suez, and returning by way of Upper Egypt. Some years later he went to Damascus and the holy cities of Palestine, thus further widening his knowledge of the eastern Arab world. It is interesting to note that he visited the tomb of Abraham in Hebron and the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem, both Abraham and Jesus being honoured prophets, but he refused to enter the Holy Sepulchre, “the site of what they claim to be the Crucifixion,” an event that Muslims deny occurred.

Ibn Khaldūn was forced to play a minor part in the palace revolt of 1389, but he apparently did so under duress, and Barqūq seems to have borne him no grudge. Otherwise, one gets the impression of a ripe, wise, and respected scholar, surrounded by admirers, sought out by visitors, peacefully enjoying the calm pleasures of old age. He had every reason to expect this state of affairs to continue, but fate had reserved for him one more encounter, the most dramatic of all.

 

Rescue by Timur

In 1400 Timur and his victorious forces invaded Syria, and the new sultan of Egypt, Faraj, went out to meet them, taking Ibn Khaldūn and other notables with him. Shortly thereafter, the Mamlūk army returned to Egypt, leaving Ibn Khaldūn in besieged Damascus. The situation soon becoming hopeless, the civilian notables of the city started negotiations with Timur, during the course of which he asked to meet Ibn Khaldūn. The latter was thereupon lowered over the city wall by ropes and spent some seven weeks in the enemy camp, of which he has given a detailed description in his autobiography.

Timur treated him with respect, and the historian used all his accumulated worldly wisdom and courtly flattery to charm the ferocious world conqueror. Probably dreaming of further conquests, Timur asked for a detailed description of North Africa and got not only a short lecture on that subject, on the caliphate, and on ʿasabiyyah but also an extensive written report. Ibn Khaldūn took advantage of Timur’s good mood to secure a safe-conduct for the civilian employees left in Damascus and permission for himself to return to Egypt but not before he witnessed the sack of the city and the burning of its great mosque.

After an exchange of gifts with Timur, he headed southward but was robbed and stripped by a band of Bedouin and only with difficulty made his way to the coast. There a “ship belonging to Ibn Osman, the sultan of Rum, stopped, carrying an ambassador to the sultan of Egypt” and took him to Gaza, establishing his only contact with what was soon to become the dominant power in the Middle East—the Ottoman Empire. The rest of his journey to Cairo was uneventful, as indeed were the remaining years of his life. He died in 1406 and was buried in the cemetery outside Bāb al-Naṣr, one of Cairo’s main gates.

 

Significance

Just as Ibn Khaldūn had no known predecessors in the history of Muslim thought, so he had no worthy successors. But he did make an impact on his students in Cairo, one of whom, al-Maqrīzī, showed an insight worthy of his master in analyzing the inflation that was rampant in his time and was the author of several voluminous works that cast much light on contemporary social conditions. Indeed, it is perhaps not too fanciful to attribute to Ibn Khaldūn’s influence the remarkable revival of historical writing in 15th-century Egypt. Later, several distinguished 16th- and 17th-century Ottoman scholars and statesmen took a keen interest in Ibn Khaldūn’s work, and a partial translation of the Muqaddimah into Turkish was made in the 18th century. But it was only after the 1860s, when a complete French translation of the Muqaddimah appeared, that Ibn Khaldūn found the worldwide audience his incomparable genius deserved.

 

Charles Issawi

Additional Reading

An autobiography was published by Muhammad al-Tanji, At-taʿrîf bi-Ibn Khaldûn (1951); an excellent translation of the introduction is Franz Rosenthal, Ibn Khaldun: The Muqaddimah, 3 vol. (1958); a translation of passages dealing with the social sciences is provided by Charles Issawi in An Arab Philosophy of History (1950). The best comprehensive study is Muhsin Madhi, Ibn Khaldun’s Philosophy of History (1957; reprinted 1964); the encounter with Timur is described in Walter Fischel, Ibn Khaldun and Tamerlane (1952).

Ibn Khaldūn. (2010). Encyclopædia Britannica. Encyclopaedia Britannica Ultimate Reference Suite.  Chicago: Encyclopædia Britannica.

 

Bibliography

 

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Cobb, S.  (1965).  Islamic contribution to civilization.  Washington, DC: Avalon.

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Sorty, Y. I.  (1985).  Ibn Khaldun’s views on man, society, and education.  Unpublished doctoral dissertation.  University of Pittsburgh, Pittsburgh, PA.

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[1] The Arabs call the storyteller “al-qassas,” and in the past some might have called him “qaria al-kursi,” which means “chairman.”  Some researchers believe that the West adopted the term “chairman” from the early Arabs in their creative century.