Anyone who decides to write six volumes is taking his life in his hands. Not so much because he must fear to excite concern in his fellow human beings; after all, the preoccupation with Islamic theology is one that happily ensures one is left alone and thus in peace. However, one’s own well-being cannot remain untouched by the worry of whether it will be possible to use the time available appropriately until the very end. Hence I am hoping for forbearance if I go briefly into matters of biography now that the work has been completed.
Rudi Paret gave the first impulse when I arrived in Tübingen in 1968; he encouraged me to take the long view, warning me against the swift word and the fleeting idea. The decision was taken during a celebration in honour of H. A. Wolfson and in anticipation of his Philosophy of the Kalam. Muhsin Mahdi asked me if I would be interested in joining or leading a team, yet to be established, to collect the fragments of the Muʿtazila. I was wary of the looming difficulties of coordination, and when the plan vanished immediately from our conversation it seemed to me that the time was right for me to undertake the project on my own. This was how volumes V and VI came into being. They do not, however, contain the fragments – firstly, because there are barely any genuine fragments but only doxographical accounts; secondly, because it is impossible to achieve (and was thus not attempted) any degree of completeness in the case of the latter in the current situation; and finally, because I do not present the original texts, but rather a German translation. Some people may find this a mixed blessing; all those Islamic and Arabic scholars of recent generations who have grown up without learning a single word of German will probably regard it as an explicatio ignoti per ignotius.
To me, on the other hand, it meant placing those fragmented texts that required interpretation on many levels into a context from my own point of view; this was the starting point for volumes I–IV. Towards the end of 1978 I presented the concept for the first time, in five lectures at the Collège de France. These appeared in print in 1984 (Une lecture à rebours de l’histoire du mutazilisme, Paris). However, when I began to write in earnest in 1979, the scope soon expanded. I realised that the Muʿtazila could not be discussed as an isolated phenomenon; it cannot be understood without its environment, without the ‘sects’ preceding or impeding it. It had long been known that these ‘sects’ were not actually sects but rather facets of a not yet firmly fixed consensus of faith; now the question was added of how Islam became that which we understand it to be today. We are still a long way from an answer; I have merely provided some material. I have tried to do this from a historical as well as a systematic point of view, the former applying to parts B–C and the latter to part D. The overview of the history of the subject in part D is not meant to repeat everything that has been said before. Much has only been hinted at; consequently I would urge the reader to make use of internal references and also to consult the index. The final chapters may seem compressed in places, but as it has become customary in any case to rely on summaries and encyclopaedia entries, this should not pose any problems. However, I must emphasise that it was not my objective to point out fundamentals only; the reader in a hurry had better look elsewhere. Rather, I intended to introduce material that had not been included in the preceding prosopographically arranged historical exploration. In some cases I have gone into greater detail, for instance emphasising the connection with the Quran, but also looking ahead to later developments, and the comparison with neighbouring religions and antiquity have played a more significant part than in the earlier sections.
I would ask the reader to take into account when using and evaluating this work that it developed over a long period. Some chapters were written many years ago. My work on the Qadariyya dates back to the early days of my time in Tübingen. The chapter on Ibn al-Rēwandī, too, remained basically unchanged in its overall outlook for over a decade. While I have attempted to update the text in accordance with the latest research in preparation for printing, it did not seem to me to be necessary to bring every quotation into line with the latest editions published in the meantime, or to comment in detail on every new secondary source. Progress in Oriental Studies is, as everywhere, not necessarily linear. Still, the fact that a number of new sources, too, came to light in quick succession caused me more than a few headaches, not least because of questions of historical influences that arose in ever different ways; I am certain that I have not been able to cover them all in any case. Thanks to a kindly star, the production of secondary sources, on the other hand, was limited at least where Islamic theology was concerned; ‘hard core theology’, to use a reviewer’s felicitous expression, appeals to only few Islamic scholars. The number of those able to offer competent judgment in this field has never gone beyond half a dozen in international circles, and interest appears to wane among the younger generation. This means that new insights need time to develop, but it also means that they do in fact have enough time to develop.
This is not the place to explore the internal structure of this work. All the same, until the very end it, in particular, appeared to me the single most original feature; after all, it was not self-explanatory. The geographical arrangement of part B led to theological groups taking shape in my imagination (such as the Basran Ghaylāniyya or Murjiʾa) that had not existed in the eyes of earlier scholarship focussed on heresiography; I shall leave the critics to tell me what they think of it. Of course the main reason for the arrangement was to establish order and keep the reader engaged. In view of the dimensions of the work I do not nurture any illusions with regard to the last point, but I have attempted to avoid repetitions and inconsistencies. This intention, too, has it limits when we are dealing with six volumes: one must not expect too much of one’s memory – and the indices, which will presumably be the well-disposed reader’s gateway to the text, were not, after all, available when I was composing it. Part D, which had to wait longest to be printed, was consequently rewritten the most frequently, and the rather rough division into chapters as laid out in the table of contents in Vol. 1 turned out not to be sufficient. In order to facilitate reading I have had to sub-divide further in some instances. This was unfortunate as the accompanying numbering had the main objective of allowing cross-references in advance; consequently I have not changed the sequence of chapters anywhere, but only added a few sub-chapters. As far as I can see this has not affected references in the earlier volumes, but in one place (from 5 to 5.0.1) the numbering turned out not quite as planned.
The bibliography and the indices (to be published in a separate volume) are voluminous indeed and took a long time to compile. In the case of the bibliography, the lengthy time period was once again a troublesome factor, as in some instances I could not remember where I had consulted which edition of a text. As for the indices, I have tried to proceed in the reader’s interest rather than mechanically. They thus refer to places where something may be found, and consequently not every mention of frequent place – or persons’ names is listed, while on the other hand some references to subjects (such as ‘epistemology’ or ‘image of God’) include pages which may not actually name the term itself but merely imply the concept. People, places, and topics were deliberately not separated, to save the reader consulting too many separate indices. The list of instances is intended to show the degree of detail with which the most relevant sources have been evaluated. The index of Arabic terms does not usually include the English meanings; they are overall clear from the context, and in some cases have not been defined unambiguously.
Occasionally I delegated simpler tasks to assistants, but it must be said frankly that this institution of modern academic life has limited use in a complex subject such as Islamic Studies, that furthermore requires much previous knowledge. The greatest benefit was when it came to proofreading. Assistance in other areas frequently did not stand up to scrutiny and led to considerable loss of time. I have made use of a first draft of the bibliography, an index of place names in Vols. 1–3 (which was ultimately conflated with the index of names and terms), and preliminary work on the index of instances; at an earlier stage, some of the sources were checked, too. Contributing their skills and knowledge were: M. Gauß-Rabah, S. Henke, F. Hoffmann, S. Kuske, A. Oevermann, M. Riexinger, P. Sindlinger and I. Toral; during the early years also M. Ripke, R. as-Saiyid and I. Schneider. I owe thanks to them all. Any mistakes still found escaped my notice and are, as is the custom according to the rhetoric of prefaces, entirely my own responsibility – in the sections mentioned as well as in all the others in which I relied on myself anyway. Considering present-day work practice it should be said that the indices were not compiled with computerised help; parts of the manuscript were composed at a time when there were no computers and could consequently not be retrieved electronically. Consequently the result is ‘handmade’ in the best and truest sense of the word. I would ask that it should be judged with the kindly spirit that is usually brought to well-meant but not necessarily professional handicrafts these days. As everywhere, only performance can tell whether a machine would have worked more efficiently.
Some of the mistakes still remaining in the text only came to my notice during the last phase described, especially when compiling the indices. Reviews did their bit, and as a consequence I have added a list of supplementary remarks at the end of this, the final, volume. This list is also due to the long time the work was in preparation.1 The DFG (Deutsche Forschungsgemeinschaft) insisted on looking over each individual volume, in which way I gained around a year each time, not only to go over the manuscript but also to explore new sources and consider the secondary texts flowing by me. Particular thanks are due to the Tübinger Universitätsbibliothek. Not only is it, being a specialist faculty of both Oriental Studies and Theology, particularly well stocked, but it also allowed me to access its materials freely and at all times. I was permitted to consult the books in the stacks, a courtesy which grew to be a rare privilege over the years. It is impossible to gauge how much time I gained in this way, and the financial saving is also likely to have been considerable, as otherwise I would have had to ask an assistant every time to find books that might have turned out to be superfluous after all in the end.
As is so frequently the case, the greatest share in the completion of the work was borne by the person least likely to wear an aura of scholarship: Ms Maria Sironi, secretary to the Orientalisches Seminar. Even during the years when the entire department shared a part-time secretary she accompanied the manuscript in every detail; during the final phase she also contributed to the ordering of the index of instances. Her dedication and considerateness were such as I have rarely seen in a student. I must also mention the ladies at de Gruyter (Ms Rade, Ms Spitzer, Ms Neumann, Ms Schmidt), who guided the volumes through printing with experience and aesthetic understanding. My final thanks go to my wife who has borne twenty years of tension with patience, and has proofread everything with me. This concluding volume is dedicated to her.
These supplementary remarks have been incorporated into the translation.