1 Introduction
The genre of narrative virtue ethics in the Islamic tradition arguably finds its clearest expression in the field of ḥadÄ«th literature, more particularly in the category of virtuous acts (faá¸Äʾil al-aÊ¿mÄl), as well as in sayings attributed to the earliest generations (al-salaf al-á¹£Äliḥ), and in the sayings and stories of prominent early Sufi figures. AbÅ« ḤÄmid al-GhazÄlÄ«âs (d. 505/1111) IḥyÄʾ Ê¿UlÅ«m al-DÄ«n (âRevival of the Religious Sciencesâ) is a rich source for such narrative virtue ethics, which he copied from works from the earlier tradition, mainly AbÅ« ṬÄlib al-MakkÄ«âs (d. 386/996) QÅ«t al-QulÅ«b (âNourishment of the Heartsâ). His seemingly uncritical incorporation of Prophetic narrations on virtuous acts, that were often classified as weak (á¸aÊ¿Ä«f) or forged (mawá¸Å«Ê¿), has not been without dispute in the later tradition. Whether unreliable ḥadÄ«th material on virtuous acts can be transmitted uncritically and acted upon plays a prominent role in modern critiques on the reliability of the IḥyÄʾ.
Historically, the role of this specific point of criticism on the IḥyÄʾ was more marginal, although always present. The eventual relative absence of ḥadÄ«th criticism in early polemics against the IḥyÄʾ may have to do with the topics for which al-GhazÄlÄ« used Prophetic narrations. The IḥyÄʾ hardly deals with matters of fiqh, for which scholars historically have always demanded the highest standards of reliability for Prophetic narrations. Most narrations that al-GhazÄlÄ« employs are parenetic, stressing certain supererogatory acts of worship, addressing the ethical topics of good manners and virtuous character (adab and akhlÄq), as well as âsoftenersâ (raqÄʾiq) and âexhortation and dissuasionâ (al-targhÄ«b wa-l-tarhÄ«b), to all of which scholars historically applied different standards of reliability than to creed- and fiqh-related topics.
The idea that this type of ḥadÄ«th material may be held to lower standards of reliability than legal material has a long history in Islamic scholarship. According to many scholars, the positive and ethically desired effects of such narrations legitimised sharing them, despite them being weak or forged. The dominant position in the premodern period was that unreliable aḥÄdÄ«th could be accepted in the realm of non-legal virtue ethics to encourage believers to act virtuously (Fudge 2006, 120; Brown 2011, 4; Brown 2014, 224â254; Lange 2015, 82, 84f). This was not an exclusive position of Sufis. The only exception to this permissive viewpoint was a small group of ḤanbalÄ«s from Baghdad and Damascus, among them Ê¿Abd al-RaḥmÄn b. Ê¿AlÄ« Ibn al-JawzÄ« (d. 597/1201), some of the Damascene MaqdisÄ«-family, and a score of scholars influenced by them.
It is to the reception of the IḥyÄʾ by these pivotal ḤanbalÄ« figures that we will have a closer look in this chapter, through an investigation of the appropriation of the IḥyÄʾ by two prominent ḤanbalÄ« scholars from the sixth/twelfth and seventh/thirteenth centuries: Ibn al-JawzÄ«âs MinhÄj al-QÄá¹£idÄ«n wa-MufÄ«d al-á¹¢ÄdiqÄ«n (âThe Way of the Strivers and the Benefit of the Truthfulâ), and Aḥmad b. Ê¿Abd al-RaḥmÄn Ibn QudÄma al-MaqdisÄ«âs (d. 689/1290) epitome of that work, Mukhtaá¹£ar MinhÄj al-QÄá¹£idÄ«n (âSummary of the Way of the Striversâ), as well as their reception in both reformist and puritan SalafÄ« circles of the twentieth century.1 My purpose is twofold. First, I shed light on their reception of the IḥyÄʾ specifically on the aspect of narrative virtue ethics, to see what the consequences of their strong opinions have been for the way they dealt with the abundant aḥÄdÄ«th and sayings of early pious figures (ÄthÄr) used by al-GhazÄlÄ« in his magnum opus. Second, I explain how and why their works and approach rose to prominence in the twentieth century after being relatively marginal in the preceding centuries.
I contend that the work of al-GhazÄlÄ« was appreciated by both of these medieval ḤanbalÄ«s, and their appropriators in the twentieth century, exactly because of the virtue ethics propagated in it. They raised the bar of ḥadÄ«th criticism on this specific aspect to be able to convincingly convey this central purpose of the IḥyÄʾ, that had their sympathy, to their intended audiences without compromising their specific ḤanbalÄ« values of ḥadÄ«th criticism and rejection of certain mystical aspects of the Sufi tradition. Although they at times also censored and replaced certain narrations to steer the virtue ethics content proposed by al-GhazÄlÄ« in a slightly different direction, this was not the main purpose of their ḥadÄ«th criticism: their main stake was raising the religious credibility of these propagated virtues. While the intended audience in medieval times mainly consisted of students of religion and fellow scholars, from the twentieth century onwards these epitomes received a more general audience as part of the project of âmoral refinementâ (tahdhÄ«b al-akhlÄq) in reformist movements. This put the bars of textual criticism even higher: where fellow scholars and students in medieval times had the scholarly tools to distinguish between strong and weak narrations, the general audience should only be presented with the strongest narrations to avoid confusion.
Al-GhazÄlÄ«âs IḥyÄʾ Ê¿UlÅ«m al-DÄ«n is widely celebrated as a classic of Islamic literature and has, as has its author, received generous scholarly attention (Ormsby 2007; Griffel 2009; Garden 2013). The workâs author, structure, and content thus do not need further introduction here. An encompassing reception history of the work, and the story of how it has become a widely spread classic, both praised and criticised, still largely remains unwritten, however. As noted by Michael Cook, âThe wide diffusion of the work [..] is documented by a mass of evidence that remains largely unstudiedâ (Cook 2001, 450â451). This still holds true today. Part of this reception history should entail an investigation of the critiques the work received on its use and propagation of narrative virtue ethics in different Islamic intellectual and sectarian environments. This chapter is a first modest step towards such a wider reception history. Through this endeavour I intend to contribute to discussions on the relation between Sufism and ḤanbalÄ«-traditionalism, a field in which more and more key texts are covered by academic research (Makdisi 1979; Anjum 2010; Picken 2011; Post 2016; 2020), as well as their revival and reception in modern and contemporary SalafÄ« circles. In this endeavour I pay particular attention to the field of narrative virtue ethics, as reflected in these works. I intend to uncover how the stress on reliable ḥadÄ«th â especially when pertaining to virtue ethics â in these circles influenced the way the IḥyÄʾ was received and restructured from the twentieth century onwards.
2 The Virtue Ethics of Knowledge in the IḥyÄʾ and the Knowledge Discipline of ḤadÄ«th
It has been suggested that al-GhazÄlÄ« simply did not know much about ḥadÄ«th and its discipline of knowledge, because of the school of al-JuwaynÄ« (d. 478/ 1085) in which he was formally trained. This school allegedly did not pay great attention to the discipline of ḥadÄ«th because of its emphasis on rational knowledge disciplines and disputation (al-ShÄmÄ« 1993a, 166â169; al-Qaraá¸ÄwÄ« 1994, 150; Siddiqui 2019, 135â162). In medieval biographical literature, several biographers suggested that al-GhazÄlÄ« only delved into the two á¹¢aḥīḥs of al-BukhÄrÄ« (d. 256/870) and Muslim (d. 261/875) at the end of his life. This is most probably a trope to accentuate the importance of the á¹¢aḥīḥayn, by showing how even speculative theologians, philosophers and Sufis ultimately returned to the authority of these works (al-Qaraá¸ÄwÄ« 1994, 154â155; Griffel 2009, 56â57). Does al-GhazÄlÄ« himself have anything to say about the knowledge discipline of ḥadÄ«th and its practitioners in his IḥyÄʾ that may prove this perception of him either right or wrong?
The first book of the IḥyÄʾ, KitÄb al-Ê¿Ilm (âThe Book of Knowledgeâ), contains ample reflection on the Islamic knowledge disciplines and the abominable inner state of its practitioners according to al-GhazÄlÄ«. One might even argue, as has Garden (2013), that this first Book contains the entire intention of the IḥyÄʾ. The âRevivalâ that al-GhazÄlÄ« proposes may be considered a call to return to virtue ethics for the scholarly class of his age. Al-GhazÄlÄ« laments the dry technical state that the Islamic knowledge disciplines have turned into, and how Islamic scholarship has rather become a career path than a path to a good outcome in the Hereafter. Al-GhazÄlÄ« envisions a return of the Islamic knowledge disciplines to âknowledge of the path to the Hereafterâ (Ê¿ilm á¹arÄ«q al-Äkhira), where these knowledge disciplines are only studied for the sake of God and the Hereafter, and not for positions, power, and prestige. He therefore favours knowledge disciplines that deal with the inner state of people, their hearts and souls, which he considers to be the true knowledge disciplines of the Hereafter, over theology and law, which he ultimately considers this-worldly knowledge disciplines (Garden 2005, 218â219; al-GhazÄlÄ« 2011, 1:66â67).
Where does this leave the study of ḥadÄ«th in his project of reviving the Islamic knowledge disciplines in their perceived original goal of attaining the Hereafter? In a passage on individual obligation (farḠʿayn) in knowledge, al-GhazÄlÄ« criticises every group of scholars for considering their own branch of knowledge as an individual obligation. Scholars of ḥadÄ«th also have this illusion according to him: âEach group considers his own branch of knowledge as obligatory. (â¦) The exegetes of the QurʾÄn and the ḥadÄ«th scholars say: âIt is knowledge of the QurʾÄn and the Sunna, because, through these, one reaches all disciplines of knowledgeââ (al-GhazÄlÄ« 2011, 1:54â55). Al-GhazÄlÄ« himself classifies ḥadÄ«th as part of the knowledge disciplines that are a communal obligation (farḠkifÄya) (al-GhazÄlÄ« 2011, 1:65â66). He considers them praiseworthy as long as they are studied as an instrumental knowledge discipline, in service of the higher goals of the inward knowledge disciplines and the âknowledge of the path to the Hereafter.â In a commentary on a supplication of al-SarÄ« al-Saqaá¹Ä« (d. between 251/865 and 258/871) for his student al-Junayd (d. 298/910), âMay God make you a companion of ḥadÄ«th that is a Sufi, not a Sufi that is a companion of ḥadÄ«th,â al-GhazÄlÄ« explains that to be a successful Sufi, one first needs to master the knowledge discipline of ḥadÄ«th and religious knowledge in general as a prerequisite (al-GhazÄlÄ« 2011, 1:83). ḥadÄ«th should only be studied to a limited extent, not as a hyper-specialisation. Ironically, he considers the study of the works of al-BukhÄrÄ« and Muslim as the absolute minimal, and the works that contain sound (á¹£aḥīḥ) narrations as the maximum extent (al-GhazÄlÄ« 2011, 1:146â149). The fact that he mentions this as such, makes it more plausible that the reason why he included so many unsound narrations in the IḥyÄʾ is perhaps indeed because of his uncritical copying of passages from earlier works like the QÅ«t al-QulÅ«b, trusting in the reliability of their selection, as claimed by Ibn al-JawzÄ« and RashÄ«d Riá¸Ä (d. 1354/1935), which we will see later.
3 Premodern ḤadÄ«th Criticism on the IḥyÄʾ: MinhÄj al-QÄá¹£idÄ«n and Its Mukhtaá¹£ar
The IḥyÄʾ received a lot of criticism during the lifetime of the author himself (Cook 2001, 455â456; Garden 2005). This criticism has persisted throughout the centuries and has increased even further in the course of the twentieth century, mostly due to a general revival of ḥadÄ«th studies, the rise in popularity of SalafÄ«-inclined Islamic scholarship, as well as movements of Islamic reform and modernism. These reform movements criticised the work for its use of weak Prophetic narrations, and increasingly problematised (certain aspects of) Sufism and speculative theology (kalÄm) as a legitimate part of the Islamic heritage (Ê¿Abd al-ḤamÄ«d 1988; al-ShÄmÄ« 1993a, 157â182; al-Qaraá¸ÄwÄ« 1994, 117â127, 158â159; al-Ṭaná¹ÄwÄ« 2001, 2:253). Many of these modern and contemporary critiques on the IḥyÄʾ echo premodern critiques. The three perpetual points of criticism are: al-GhazÄlÄ«âs use of problematic Prophetic narratives, his embrace of perceived excesses of the Sufi tradition, and his use of illegitimate philosophical ideas.
In his own age, the IḥyÄʾ already caused controversy in Nishapur, where al-GhazÄlÄ« returned to teach after the wanderings that followed his much-discussed crisis. In the Islamic West (the Maghrib), where Sufism was not yet as strongly rooted within Islamic tradition as it was in the Islamic East (the Mashriq), several fierce treatises were written against the work (Garden 2005, 141â184). The controversy reached such heights that al-GhazÄlÄ« even felt compelled to write a defence of the work himself, as well as his own epitome in Persian (al-GhazÄlÄ« 2011, 10:213â354; Hillenbrand 2013). The main accusations in his own age were propagation of too extreme Sufi ideas, inappropriate philosophical ideas in matters of creed, errors in Arabic grammar, and poor Persian (Garden 2005, 76â78). His use of problematic Prophetic narrations was still only a minor part of the criticism in his own age, not so much aimed at his use of weak (á¸aÊ¿Ä«f) and forged (mawá¸Å«Ê¿) material, but rather at his laxity in naming sources, and did not play any role in his own rebuttal of the criticisms. These accusations had a social and political angle as well: al-GhazÄlÄ« had made enemies because of his critical stance towards the career-minded scholars and governors of the region, a criticism that is at the heart of the IḥyÄʾ (Garden 2005, 118â140).
This perpetual criticism on the IḥyÄʾ, which rose simultaneously with its popularity, also caused another more constructive trend among Islamic scholars. Many scholars from different Islamic intellectual and sectarian traditions sought a middle way between completely renouncing the work and uncritically accepting it. To that purpose they wrote commentaries on the work, or works, classifying the aḥÄdÄ«th used by al-GhazÄlÄ«, in which they articulated their mild criticism, but also showed their praise. Another strategy of finding a balance between criticism and praise was through composition of positive-critical epitomes of the work, in which the composer conserved what he agreed with, and scrapped what he deemed problematic (ḤaddÄd 1987; al-ShÄmÄ« 1993b; Cook 2001, 453â456; Reichmuth 2009, 269â275).
The works of Ibn al-JawzÄ« and Ibn QudÄma belong to that second category of positive-critical epitomes. As scholars of the ḤanbalÄ« school, and part of the very vivid ḤanbalÄ« culture of learning in their age in Baghdad and al-á¹¢Äliḥiyya, a suburb of Damascus, they summarised the IḥyÄʾ in such a way that it would become suitable to teach and consume within their own circles, conforming with their specific religious views. It is likely that these authors very well realised that the popularity and influence of this work had become so pervasive that it was inevitable that scholars and students in their own circles would come into contact with it. Composing a purified version of the work was, possibly, a way to take advantage of the immense popularity of the work to propagate ideas they agreed with.
In his al-Muntaáºam fÄ« TÄrÄ«kh al-MulÅ«k wa-l-Umam (âCompilation on the History of Kings and Nationsâ), Ibn al-JawzÄ« mentions having composed a treatise more emphatically against the IḥyÄʾ, with the title IÊ¿lÄm al-AḥyÄʾ bi-AghlÄá¹ al-IḥyÄʾ (âInforming the Living about the Mistakes in the Revivalâ). Yet, there is no manuscript left of the treatise. Some of the criticism in this treatise can be found in his entry on al-GhazÄlÄ« in al-Muntaáºam however (Ibn al-JawzÄ« 1992, 17:124â127; Brown 2007, 354). In this encyclopaedic work, Ibn al-JawzÄ« criticises al-GhazÄlÄ« for having neglected the knowledge discipline of fiqh completely and only focusing on Sufism in an unbalanced and irresponsible way. Ibn al-JawzÄ« accuses al-GhazÄlÄ« of being much too attracted to the works of the early Sufis, like AbÅ« ṬÄlib al-MakkÄ«âs QÅ«t al-QulÅ«b â indeed one of the main sources for the IḥyÄʾ â which distracted him from remaining within the boundaries of fiqh. He, for example, blames al-GhazÄlÄ« for including a story on a man who wanted to rid himself of his good reputation (jÄh) and therefore stole a cloak from the bathing house only to intentionally be discovered as a thief. Following the same logic as in his criticism of forged narrations for the sake of al-targhÄ«b wa-l-tarhÄ«b, Ibn al-JawzÄ« considers these kinds of stories on virtue ethics to have damaging social consequences. It is therefore immoral (qabīḥ) to share them with novices, even if the goal is learning. According to Ibn al-JawzÄ« too much was at stake if such material would be accepted and spread: the whole concept of a noble lie would undermine the integrity and authority of ḥadÄ«th as a source of guidance. The extreme behaviour these false narrations often endorsed would lead to undesirable social consequences. These ideas of Ibn al-JawzÄ« on ḥadÄ«th criticism were an exception in his own age and subsequent centuries, and only became more influential in the late nineteenth century. His contemporaries and later ḥadÄ«th theorists generally considered Ibn al-JawzÄ« too strict, and criticised him for not upholding his own standards (Brown 2011, 20â21; al-Khaá¹Ä«b 2011, 103â106).
Ibn al-JawzÄ« gives similar examples of what he considers crucial mistakes of al-GhazÄlÄ«, among which is his use of ḥadÄ«th in the IḥyÄʾ. He rebukes him for narrating a ḥadÄ«th attributed to Ê¿Äʾisha (d. 58/678) in which she says âYou are the one who pretends to be the messenger of God,â which according to him has no basis of reliability and simply cannot be true considering its meaning. Ibn al-JawzÄ« emphatically considers al-GhazÄlÄ« weak in the knowledge discipline of ḥadÄ«th, which is the reason why, according to him, the majority of narrations in the IḥyÄʾ belong to the category of forged narrations (aḥÄdÄ«th mawá¸Å«Ê¿a). He suggests it would be better if al-GhazÄlÄ« had his work checked on this aspect by a specialist, because now his transmission is worthless. He does mention that al-GhazÄlÄ« spent the last moments of his life memorising the QurʾÄn and occupying himself with the two á¹¢aḥīḥs, which may be interpreted as a way to further underline his lack of knowledge of ḥadÄ«th. Ibn al-JawzÄ« also mentions his own epitome in this entry on al-GhazÄlÄ« in al-Muntaáºam: âSomeone craved for the IḥyÄʾ so I pointed out its flaws to him. Then I (re)wrote it for him and left out what was suitable to be left out, and added what was [suitable to be] addedâ (Ibn al-JawzÄ« 1992, 17:124â127).
Brockelmann (d. 1956) specifically mentioned Ibn al-JawzÄ«âs epitome in the context of his zeal for purifying the Sunna from false transmissions, which he considered an exaggerated and extreme application of the Sunna-fanaticism of the ḤanbalÄ« school (Brockelmann 1909, 177). The entry on MinhÄj al-QÄá¹£idÄ«n in ḤÄjjÄ« KhalÄ«faâs (d. 1067/1657) Kashf al-áºunÅ«n (âRemoval of Uncertaintiesâ) also mentions his obliteration of incorrect Prophetic narrations and Sufi ideas: âIt follows the method of the IḥyÄʾ, but he has removed tenuous Prophetic narrations and ways of the Sufis that have no foundationâ (ḤÄjjÄ« KhalÄ«fa n.d., 2:1878). Both Brockelmann and ḤÄjjÄ« KhalÄ«fa do not mention Ibn QudÄmaâs epitome. This is probably due to the popularity and fame of Ibn al-JawzÄ«, especially compared to the relative obscurity of Ibn QudÄma.
The introduction of Ibn al-JawzÄ«âs epitome confirms this motive of purification (Ibn al-JawzÄ« 2010, 5â9). Ibn al-JawzÄ« directs his words, as is a common style form in spiritual treatises, to one of his pupils who intends to seclude himself in silence with the IḥyÄʾ.2 Ibn al-JawzÄ« first praises the student for choosing the IḥyÄʾ, which he calls a unique work in its kind. However, he warns his pupil that the work of his choice contains many things that will lead to actions unacceptable in the religion. His first criticism concerns, as can be expected, al-GhazÄlÄ«âs use of ḥadÄ«th material. According to Ibn al-JawzÄ« the work contains many weak and fabricated narrations, upon which one cannot build oneâs acts of worship. He blames al-GhazÄlÄ« for narrating âhaltedâ (mawqÅ«f) narrations of the Companions as if they are âelevatedâ (marfÅ«Ê¿) to the Prophet, and for uncritically copying them from his earlier Sufi sources. He also names the example of supererogatory prayers that al-GhazÄlÄ« falsely attributes to the Prophet. In Ibn al-JawzÄ«âs view, it would be useless to act upon such baseless narrations, since religious acts should always be based on sound knowledge to be valid.
His second criticism concerns the way the work deals with Sufism. Ibn al-JawzÄ« considers many things that al-GhazÄlÄ« mentions in this regard to be excessive and unnecessarily harsh. As examples, he mentions discourses about annihilation and subsistence (al-fanÄʾ wa-l-baqÄʾ), commanding deliberate excessive hunger, and religious dwellings (siyÄḥa). For this, he refers to his arguably most famous work TalbÄ«s IblÄ«s (âThe Deception of the Devilâ), in which he repeats his criticism of al-GhazÄlÄ«âs laxity in blindly copying unreliable aḥÄdÄ«th, grave transgressions in creedal matters and fiqh, and repeatedly gives examples of al-GhazÄlÄ«âs mistakes in the realm of Sufism (Ibn al-JawzÄ« 1983, 160).
When his student exclaims his disappointment that Ibn al-Jawzī has made him detest this book after having loved it so much, he promises his student that he will write a version purified from all mistakes and wrong ideas, only narrating the most sound and well-known narrations and well-established meanings:
You said to me: âYou have made me uneasy with this book, after my intimacy [with it].â I said: âI wish for you what I wish for myself, so I will write it in a book that does not abandon its merits, and rids it from its bad elements. I will use the most sound and well-known narrations in it, and the most well-established and excellent meanings. I will leave out what is suitable to leave out, and will add to it what is suitable to add. I will not be unnecessarily lengthyâ.
Ibn al-Jawzī 2010, 1:7
He stresses that he will leave out many narrations, not out of forgetfulness, but because he believes them not to be sound. He promises not to repeat his criticism on the IḥyÄʾ, noted down in his other treatise, in this work to keep the reader focused on its positive message.
Ibn QudÄmaâs introduction, of his summary of Ibn al-JawzÄ«âs work, largely consists of a literal repetition of Ibn al-JawzÄ«âs words (Ibn QudÄma 1991, 9â12). The only thing he adds is praise for Ibn al-JawzÄ«âs book, adding that it is still too large and that he wished to shorten it further, by leaving out discussions pertaining to details of jurisprudence. He considers these well known in the works of fiqh and does not deem it necessary to repeat them. Both works stick to the same organisation of the IḥyÄʾ, a total of forty books (chapters) divided equally over four quarters. Ibn QudÄmaâs work merges several books for practical reasons of length. He omits the QawÄÊ¿id al-Ê¿AqÄʾid (âThe Foundations of Religious Convictionsâ) completely, a book that Ibn al-JawzÄ« also drastically shortens because of his aversion of the knowledge discipline of kalÄm. The content of the KitÄb al-SamÄÊ¿ wa-l-Wajd (âBook on Audition and Ecstasyâ), in which al-GhazÄlÄ« praises both religious sessions of audition (samÄÊ¿) and the ecstasy they provoke, is also drastically replaced with a complete rejection of the matter. Ibn QudÄma even files it under the KitÄb al-Amr bi-l-MaÊ¿rÅ«f wa-l-Nahy Ê¿an al-Munkar (âBook of Commanding the Right and Forbidding the Wrongâ) (Black MacDonald 1902; Ibn QudÄma 1991, 143â144; Ibn al-JawzÄ« 2010, 1:499â502; al-GhazÄlÄ« 2011, 4:409â533).
4 A Sample: Narrative Virtue Ethics on Earning and Livelihood (al-Kasb wa-l-MaÊ¿Äsh)
Let us first have a closer look at al-Kasb wa-l-MaÊ¿Äsh (âEarning and Livelihoodâ), to see how this scrutiny of ḥadÄ«th material affects the treatment of this chapter on the virtue ethics of acquiring oneâs livelihood. This is a good example of narrative virtue ethics in a Sufi context. The issue of whether a wayfarer should earn oneâs own livelihood through oneâs own acquisition of Godâs decree (kasb), or should completely rely on Godâs decree without acquiring it oneself, is an old theme in Sufism, closely related to the themes of reliance on God (tawakkul), renunciation (zuhd), and poverty (faqr), as pious ideals (Reinert 1968, 141â156; Gramlich 1995a, 1:158â160; Ritter 2013, 217â226; Melchert 2020, 147â151). Al-GhazÄlÄ« was clearly relating to this discussion in this book of the IḥyÄʾ, taking the position that although God is the absolute and only provider of sustenance, one should still work for it oneself and actively acquire oneâs livelihood.
This third book of the RubÊ¿ al-Ê¿ÄdÄt (âQuarter of Habitsâ) is divided into five chapters. The first chapter is most relevant for the topic of ḥadÄ«th on virtue ethics. It deals with the merits of working for oneâs earnings and starts â as is typical for most books of the IḥyÄʾ â with a summary of relevant QurʾÄnic verses on the topic, followed by sayings attributed to the Prophet, and, after that, sayings of Companions, Successors, and wise men from earlier generations (ÄthÄr) related to the topic. A comparison with the chapter with the same name from AbÅ« ṬÄlib al-MakkÄ«âs QÅ«t al-QulÅ«b shows that most of this material is directly copied from the QÅ«t (Gramlich 1995b, 3:610â612; al-GhazÄlÄ« 2011, 3:239â246). This rules out any deliberate organisation of ḥadÄ«th material by al-GhazÄlÄ« to make some kind of sophisticated ethical point through his composition, to be discovered by us as readers, and shows that Ibn al-JawzÄ« and Riá¸Ä were right in their observation that he uncritically copied passages from earlier works.
In this first subchapter, al-GhazÄlÄ« mentions fourteen narrations attributed to the Prophet, only one of which can be related back to the six canonical collections, al-TirmidhÄ«âs (d. 279/892). As is also typical for the IḥyÄʾ, and as was already the criticism from his early adversaries in the Islamic West, al-GhazÄlÄ« himself does not include any chains of transmission or sources for these narrations, he only attributes them directly to the Prophet. Thematically, these narrations all support the idea that earning oneâs own livelihood and trade are acts of high religious merit and virtue, and much better than just profiting from others or waiting for oneâs livelihood to fall from the sky, such as âThere is a category of sins that are only expiated by concern with seeking livelihood;â âThe trustworthy trader is resurrected on the day of resurrection with the upright and the martyrs;â âThe most permissible food that a man can eat is from what he has earned, and from every blessed saleâ (al-GhazÄlÄ« 2011, 3:239â242).
The main difference between the IḥyÄʾ and the epitome of Ibn al-JawzÄ« in this chapter is in the choice of narrations: Ibn al-JawzÄ« selects only five narrations, of which only one, a narration that can be traced back to Aḥmad b. Ḥanbalâs (d. 241/855) Musnad, corresponds with the selection of al-GhazÄlÄ«. The other fourteen do not survive his critical redaction of weak material, an exceptionally high number. The second difference lies in that Ibn al-JawzÄ« does mention the source of each ḥadÄ«th that he includes. For two narrations, he even lists the full chains of transmission from himself back to the Prophet, transmitting through his direct teachers Ê¿Abd al-WahhÄb b. al-ḤÄfiẠ(fl. 6th/12th century) and Ê¿Abd al-Awwal b. ʿĪsÄ (d. 553/1159). Ibn al-JawzÄ« does, thus, not only refer these transmissions back to the compilations in which they can be found, but really shows in his work that he is part of the living tradition of narrating these Prophetic narrations with a full chain of transmission, attaining the highest level of scrutiny of the chains of transmission as possible. From the other three narrations two go back to the collections of al-BukhÄrÄ« and Muslim, already firmly canonised as the most reliable compilations, by the time of Ibn al-JawzÄ« (Brown 2007, 169).
Despite the completely different set of narrations that Ibn al-JawzÄ« offers, thematically there is no large difference in the ḥadÄ«th material selected. For Ibn al-JawzÄ«, the main goal in his selection is to show the merit of earning oneâs livelihood by the work of oneâs own hands or by trade, and a rejection of passivity in awaiting Godâs provision. He, for example, mentions a narration that compares earning oneâs livelihood to jihÄd, another that mentions the food that one brought forth by oneâs own hands as the best type of food, and a narration that describes the professions of Prophets as farmers, carpenters, tailors and shepherds (Ibn al-JawzÄ« 2010, 1:362â363). While Ibn QudÄma has no major deviations from Ibn al-JawzÄ«, he only reduced the number of cited narrations to four (Ibn QudÄma 1991, 82â84).
When we look at the ÄthÄr, we see a similar dynamic of reducing the number of narrations and sometimes replacing them with other more reliable narrations. Here also, al-GhazÄlÄ« mentions fifteen sayings attributed to a mixture of former Prophets, Companions of Muhammad, and illustrious Sufi figures, such as LuqmÄn the Wise, Ê¿Umar b. al-Khaá¹á¹Äb (d. 24/644), Zayd b. ThÄbit (d. 45/665), Ê¿Abd AllÄh b. MasÊ¿Å«d (d. 32/650), IbrÄhÄ«m b. Adham (d. 161/777â778), the Prophet Job, Aḥmad b. Ḥanbal and AbÅ« SulaymÄn al-DÄrÄnÄ« (d. 215/830) (al-GhazÄlÄ« 2011, 3:243â246). The thematic content of these ÄthÄr is similar to the Prophetic narrations: working is lauded as jihÄd and an elevated form of worship, and as a way to become independent from other people. All sayings somehow suggest that begging and preferring worship over working is ethically frowned upon. Of these fifteen ÄthÄr, Ibn al-JawzÄ« preserves only six in his redaction: those by LuqmÄn, Ê¿Umar, Job, IbrÄhÄ«m b. Adham, Aḥmad b. Ḥanbal and AbÅ« SulaymÄn al-DÄrÄnÄ«; Ibn QudÄma only leaves LuqmÄn, Aḥmad and AbÅ« SulaymÄn (Ibn QudÄma 1991, 82â83; Ibn al-JawzÄ« 2010, 1:363). Here, it is harder to say which criteria Ibn al-JawzÄ« used to narrow these options down, whether it was a critique on their reliability, or a critique on their contents, or perhaps both.
Saliant is that Ibn al-JawzÄ« censures or changes the sayings attributed to Companions (Ê¿Umar, Ibn MasÊ¿Å«d, Zayd) while he leaves the sayings of Sufi figures like Ibn Adham and al-DÄrÄnÄ« intact. A reason for this might be that he demands a higher level of authenticity for the former, since the Companions have a higher status as a source of religious guidance. From attributions to Ê¿Umar for example, al-GhazÄlÄ« included two sayings directly from QÅ«t al-QulÅ«b: âLet none of you sit down from seeking livelihood and say, âO God, provide me with livelihood.â You know that the heaven does not let gold and silver rain down;â and âNo place is more beloved to me to have death come to me than a place in which I am trading for my family, buying and selling.â Ibn al-JawzÄ« replaces these with only one saying attributed to Ê¿Umar. He thus leaves the authority cited intact as a sign of respect to the original composition, and replaces it with a saying with a similar meaning: âTo die between two work-related travels in which I seek livelihood is more beloved to me than to die warring on the path of Godâ (Ibn al-JawzÄ« 2010, 1:363). We can state that, in this particular case, Ibn al-JawzÄ«âs critical redaction did not lead to a shift in the intended parenetic meaning of al-GhazÄlÄ«âs selection of sayings on virtue ethics. Rather he shows that, both in the case of ḥadÄ«th and ÄthÄr, more reliable alternatives can be used without losing the scope of the book out of sight.
5 A Related Sample: Divine Unity and Reliance (al-Tawḥīd wa-l-Tawakkul)
As stated earlier, the themes of poverty and renunciation (al-faqr wa-l-zuhd), as well as trust in divine providence (tawakkul), are closely related to the theme of earning oneâs livelihood, and may be considered typical Sufi themes (Reinert 1968), as well as its preceding movement of renunciants (zuhhÄd) (Melchert 2020). In the following section, I will therefore analyse the theme of tawakkul as well, to see whether the same approach to narrative virtue ethics can be found here.
To understand al-GhazÄlÄ«âs coupling of tawḥīd with tawakkul, one should turn to the first book, KitÄb al-Ê¿Ilm, where al-GhazÄlÄ« redefines the knowledge discipline of tawḥīd as
that one sees everything coming from God, with a vision that stops one from turning to causes and means, and only sees good and evil as coming from Him. This is an honourable station, the fruit of which is trust in divine providence.
al-GhazÄlÄ« 2011, 1:125
Al-GhazÄlÄ« complains how it has now become an expression for the art of theological dispute, which was reprehensible among the salaf. He wishes to replace it with a practical theology of virtue, in which an experiential understanding of the unity of God leads to complete reliance upon him: God is the only agent in the universe, and thus the only one upon which one should rely. This is a way for al-GhazÄlÄ« to reclaim the definition of tawḥīd as part of the inward knowledge discipline of the heart, related to Sufism, rather than as a knowledge discipline of dialectical disputation and speculative theology as practiced by the mutakallimÅ«n.3 This definition remains in the epitomes of Ibn al-JawzÄ« and Ibn QudÄma, likely because it fit their disapproval of kalÄm very well, as well as their sober understanding of Sufism (Ibn QudÄma 1991, 19; Ibn al-JawzÄ« 2010, 1:41). To convey this inward vision on tawḥīd as tawakkul in the book of the IḥyÄʾ dedicated to that specific subject, al-GhazÄlÄ« takes his resort to ḥadÄ«th literature and pious examples of earlier Sufi figures quite prominently in this book. I shall now analyse what of that material remains in the epitomes of Ibn al-JawzÄ« and Ibn QudÄma.
As we are used to in the IḥyÄʾ, al-GhazÄlÄ« also starts this book with a series of quotes from the QurʾÄn on the topic, and then moves on to Prophetic narrations and sayings from pious early figures (ÄthÄr). He quotes a total of six Prophetic narrations, two sayings attributed to earlier Prophets (IbrÄhÄ«m and DÄwÅ«d), and eight sayings from early pious figures. The material he quotes can be categorised in the following themes: (1) those who trust in God alone are guaranteed Paradise without reckoning; (2) those with full trust in Godâs providence are fully provided for by Him; (3) recourse to anything other than God, like sorcery and superstitions, is detrimental to oneâs trust in God. None of these themes seem to be something that Ibn al-JawzÄ« would take offence at from his particular view on matters of creed and Sufism. The ÄthÄr largely revolve around the same themes, but here a fourth theme is added that is absent from the ḥadÄ«th material: sustenance comes to the believer without actively striving for it: this is the greatest proof that God is the Sustainer.
In the recension of Ibn al-JawzÄ«, the same three basic themes indeed recur in the ḥadÄ«th material, and he also quotes six Prophetic narrations in total. However, as we earlier saw in the al-Kasb wa-l-MaÊ¿Äsh, Ibn al-JawzÄ«, in some cases, replaces the aḥÄdÄ«th with thematically similar material that he deems more trustworthy. Al-GhazÄlÄ« for example cites a ḥadÄ«th attributed to Ê¿Abd AllÄh b. MasÊ¿Å«d, about gathering on the day of Ê¿ArafÄt during the Ḥajj season, in which the Prophet states that among those present of his community there will be 70,000 people who will enter Paradise without reckoning, because they fully trust on God and do not engage in sorcery or trickery. This narration in these exact wordings can only be found in the Musnad of AbÅ« DÄwÅ«d al-ṬayÄlisÄ« (d. 204/819) (al-GhazÄlÄ« 2011, 8:196â197).4 Ibn al-JawzÄ« replaces this with a ḥadÄ«th supported by a full chain of transmission instead, from himself to Ibn Ê¿AbbÄs (d. c.68/687), through Aḥmad b. Ḥanbal, that deals with the same event and the same saying of the Prophet, but with different details in the narrative (Ibn al-JawzÄ« 2010, 3:1228â1229). Contrary to the narration that al-GhazÄlÄ« relates, the narrative attributed to Ibn Ê¿AbbÄs can be found in the the two á¹¢aḥīḥs.5 It likely had higher status in the eyes of Ibn al-JawzÄ«, especially because he himself had his own unique chain of transmission of the narration through Aḥmad as well, underlining his identity as a ḤanbalÄ«. Ibn al-JawzÄ« keeps the famous ḥadÄ«th that compares the believer with full trust in God with birds in his recension, but also with his own chain of transmission included to underline its reliability (Ibn al-JawzÄ« 2010, 3:1229). The other four aḥÄdÄ«th that al-GhazÄlÄ« quotes, Ibn al-JawzÄ« leaves out, replacing them with four supplications attributed to the Prophet, that he derived from AbÅ« Bakr b. AbÄ« l-DunyÄâs (d. 281/894) KitÄb al-Tawakkul (âBook on Providenceâ), who had an equal reputation of very cautious scrutiny of ḥadÄ«th material, citing them without full chains of transmission (Ibn al-JawzÄ« 2010, 3:1229â1230; Ibn AbÄ« l-DunyÄ 1987). As in the Book analysed above, here Ibn al-JawzÄ« radically chooses to replace all sayings that he does not consider reliable enough with narrations that conform to his high standards. He is very consistent in this. He does decide to leave the topics addressed intact however: his objection and censorship, in this particular case, is not related to the content of the narrations, as was the case in KitÄb al-SamÄÊ¿, but only with their reliability.
Let us now see what happens to the category of ÄthÄr in his epitome, as well as the sayings of early Sufi figures. From the ÄthÄr that al-GhazÄlÄ« quotes, half of them from unnamed authorities, Ibn al-JawzÄ« edits none. He replaces them completely with other sayings, all with the authorities named, of which only one authority is overlapping and includes a different saying. Reliability of the chain of transmission was not the issue here however, nor was the supposed creedal integrity of the figures quoted. Here is clearly a case of criticism of the content. The main theme of the sayings quoted by al-GhazÄlÄ« can be interpreted as a type of quietism in understanding reliance on God: it comes to the true believer without actively seeking it oneself, indeed a fatalist conception of tawakkul. There is a strange conflict here with what al-GhazÄlÄ« propagated earlier in KitÄb al-Kasb, as well as what he propagates in the remainder of KitÄb al-Tawḥīd wa-l-Tawakkul (âDivine Unity and Relianceâ): he himself is obviously not in favour of such a fatalist conception, and rather agitates against that himself. Al-GhazÄlÄ« himself did not seem troubled by this inconsistency however, which further confirms the idea that he was uncritical in copying such sayings from earlier sources. Al-GhazÄlÄ«âs selection of sayings seems more motivated by what was accidentally available to him at that moment than by a well-crafted and meticulous selection that fitted what he himself propagated. This was an unacceptable idea for Ibn al-JawzÄ«. As we have already learned from his introduction discussed above, passively waiting for oneâs sustenance was something he considered to belong to the category of unacceptable and excessive forms of Sufism. He thus replaces the narrative virtue ethics that al-GhazÄlÄ« offers with a narrative virtue ethics that stresses a sober lifestyle (zuhd), remembrance of death (dhikr al-mawt), and the fundamental link of tawakkul to oneâs belief.
In the second part of KitÄb al-Tawḥīd wa-l-Tawakkul, al-GhazÄlÄ« relates several stories on tawakkul from earlier pious Sufi figures (al-GhazÄlÄ« 2011, 8:262â265). According to David Burrell, the goal of al-GhazÄlÄ« with his presentation of these narratives is âto offer one object lesson after another of a way to take esoteric Sufi lore and allow it to inspire oneâs practiceâ (Burrell 2001, xxi). This is completely omitted by Ibn al-JawzÄ«, who clearly did not agree with the approach of these early Sufis. Here the conflict is clearer and harsher, which leads to a more drastic censure than in the case of earlier discussed ḥadÄ«th material.
6 The Reception of the IḥyÄʾ in Modernity and the Problematisation of ḤadÄ«th on Virtue Ethics
Given the perpetual popularity of and praise for the IḥyÄʾ in later centuries, the criticism of Ibn al-JawzÄ« did not directly lead to a paradigm shift in the tradition after him (al-ShÄmÄ« 1993a, 157â161; Cook 2001, 450â456). The very scarce remaining manuscript evidence (only three) of Ibn al-JawzÄ«âs work, which both the editor and the publisher give as a reason for its late edition, also suggests that it was not a highly popular book in the premodern age, certainly not as popular as the IḥyÄʾ itself (Ibn al-JawzÄ« 2010, 1:5, 14â15). The same can be said of Ibn QudÄmaâs epitome, the first printed edition of which was also based only on three manuscripts (Ibn QudÄma 1928). Both thus remained relatively marginal within the boundaries of their own school, with the IḥyÄʾ itself triumphant. Apparently, their fundamental criticism was not shared widely enough to also be adopted outside their own local branch of the ḤanbalÄ« school.
This only changed in the course of the twentieth century, with the rise of printing. This made many forgotten manuscripts see the light of day as printed texts, often with an agenda of âpurificationâ of the Islamic tradition according to Taymiyyan standards. Both early reformist and later puritan SalafÄ«s were keen to make use of printing to advance their causes (Khan 2016, 54â55; El Shamsy 2020, 182â191; Bosanquet 2021). Islamic reform movements in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century cared deeply about promoting virtues (faá¸Äʾil), morality (akhlÄq), and refinement (tahdhÄ«b), as part of their âcivilisationâ (tamaddun) programs (Kateman 2019, 96â115). To promote religious virtues and morality in society, the IḥyÄʾ remained the most suitable text in their view, but it needed some revisions to fit their broader agenda of textual criticism and critique of Sufi excesses considered to be irrational and too miraculous. Their renewed criticism of weak and forged ḥadÄ«th and perceived irrationalities of Sufism thus had repercussions for the reception of al-GhazÄlÄ«âs IḥyÄʾ. The SalafÄ«-reformist scholar RashÄ«d Riá¸Ä, for example, famously discussed the status of problematic ḥadÄ«th material in the IḥyÄʾ as a response to a readerâs question in the widespread and influential journal al-ManÄr (âThe Lighthouseâ), an article which is claimed to have been the major impetus for NÄá¹£ir al-DÄ«n al-AlbÄnÄ«âs (d. 1420/1999) career in ḥadÄ«th studies (Riá¸Ä 1909; Brown 2011, 34â35). Riá¸Ä admits al-GhazÄlÄ« had weaknesses in his knowledge of the classification of ḥadÄ«th, but acquits him from intentionally including weak and forged transmissions in his work. Most of them, claims Riá¸Ä, come from QÅ«t al-qulÅ«b, which al-GhazÄlÄ«, according to Riá¸Ä, copied in blind trust of the original author. As we have seen, this indeed was an important source text for the IḥyÄʾ.
Both QÅ«t al-QulÅ«b and the IḥyÄʾ were epitomised by the Syrian SalafÄ«- reformist and ḥadÄ«th-specialist JamÄl al-DÄ«n al-QÄsimÄ« (d. 1332/1914), who maintained good contacts with Muḥammad Ê¿Abduh (d. 1323/1905) and his student Riá¸Ä. Al-QÄsimÄ« even summarised the IḥyÄʾ on personal advice from Ê¿Abduh, âon condition they be edited to omit weak oral reports and spurious storiesâ (Commins 1990, 62; al-QÄsimÄ« 2009, 33). Also, his published collection of Friday sermons is largely based on the structure and content of the IḥyÄʾ, which further confirms the desire of these reformists to bring the virtues propagated in the work to the masses (al-QÄsimÄ« 1907).6 Al-QÄsimÄ« gave an impetus to the revival of the knowledge disciplines of muá¹£á¹alaḥ al-ḥadÄ«th (ḥadÄ«th classification) and al-jarḥ wa-l-taÊ¿dÄ«l (impugning and approving) in his circles, mainly through his QawÄÊ¿id al-TaḥdÄ«th (âThe Foundations of Narrating Prophetic Traditionsâ), which contains large portions of the works of Ibn al-JawzÄ« (al-QÄsimÄ« 1925; al-SarmÄ«nÄ« 2010). In his introduction to his epitome of AbÅ« ṬÄlib al-MakkÄ«âs work, al-WaʿẠal-Maá¹lÅ«b min QÅ«t al-QulÅ«b (âThe Required Exhortation from The Nourishment of the Heartsâ), al-QÄsimÄ« mentions purification from problematic Prophetic reports as a main motive:
This book of his has nevertheless never been criticised in this time, on the objectionable reports and narrations among the people of knowledge that it contains. Removing these from it is one of the greatest priorities and the best things to do, because it increases its benefit and use.
al-QÄsimÄ« 2010, 28
In the introduction to his IḥyÄʾ-epitome MawÊ¿iáºat al-MuʾminÄ«n min IḥyÄʾ Ê¿UlÅ«m al-DÄ«n (âExhortation of the Believers from the IḥyÄʾâ) he explains that he wished to make a version of the IḥyÄʾ which would be more accessible to the lay people, who had difficulty understanding the literal readings of the work in public teaching sessions by scholars. He does not make specific reference to the problem of unreliable aḥÄdÄ«th, but does mention how Ê¿Abduh suggested that it would be the best work for the purpose of instructing Islamic virtues to lay people âafter purifying itâ (baÊ¿da tajrÄ«dihi) (al-QÄsimÄ« 2009, 41). A glance at the content of the book, however, immediately reveals that he omitted a lot of ḥadÄ«th material and mainly focused on summarising its other contents in his own wordings. In his summary of the earlier discussed al-Kasb wa-l-MaÊ¿Äsh for example, he only preserves four narrations from the fifteen in the original redaction of al-GhazÄlÄ«, one of which can be traced back to the two á¹¢aḥīḥs, two to Aḥmadâs Musnad, and one to al-ṬabarÄnÄ«. Only the last of these is ranked as weak (á¸aÊ¿Ä«f) by the editor, the son of the Damascene SalafÄ« scholar Muḥammad Bahjat al-BÄ«á¹Är (1893â1976), a close friend of al-QÄsimÄ« and Riá¸Ä (al-QÄsimÄ« 2009, 176â177; Weismann and Adawi 2021). Al-QÄsimÄ« formally held a more lenient position than Ibn al-JawzÄ« on using weak ḥadÄ«th, agreeing with the mainstream position that it is allowed outside the realm of legal opinions, but in his redaction, he remained strict (al-QÄsimÄ« 1925, 94â95; Brown 2011, 31â32).
This renewed interest in the IḥyÄʾ, making it suitable for a larger audience than only the learned class, as part of the reformist mission of stimulating moral refinement (tahdhÄ«b al-akhlÄq) among all layers of society, also led to a renewed interest in and printed publication of its medieval ḤanbalÄ« epitomes. In the preceding discussion, most attention has gone to Ibn al-JawzÄ«âs epitome, with Ibn QudÄmaâs epitome proving to be nothing more than a further curtailment for practical reasons without a deeper ideological agenda. Why then still include Ibn QudÄma in this discussion? This has to do with the modern reception of these works, in which Ibn QudÄmaâs work was dominant. Ibn QudÄmaâs epitome has seen several editions in the twentieth century, most of them from Syria, where it has been part of Islamic secondary and higher education since the 1930s. The relatively small size of the work, its emphasis on pedagogy (tarbiya) and good manners (adab), as well as its broad acceptability for different strands of Islamic thought, from traditionalist to modernist, from Sufi to SalafÄ«, made it very suitable for that.
Given their renewed stress on reliable ḥadÄ«th material and the irrational excesses of Sufism, it is no coincidence that named epitomes by Ibn al-JawzÄ« and most notably Ibn QudÄma became specifically popular with the advent of the SalafÄ« movement in the twentieth century. Although the text became popular in a much wider circle and was certainly not limited to this group, their engagement with editions of this work seem relatively larger than other groups. The modern appropriation of the Mukhtaá¹£ar starts in 1346/1927â1928, when the Islamic scholar and historian Muḥammad Aḥmad DahmÄn (d. 1988), belonging to the emerging SalafÄ« trend in Damascus, sees the manuscript and edits it for publication for the first time (Ibn QudÄma 1928). According to his own testimony, his purpose was to use it as education material in the religious institutions of higher education (al-kulliyyÄt al-sharÊ¿iyya) of Syria, which according to him indeed adopted the work in all major cities (Ibn QudÄma 1978, 5â6).
The most current popular edition seems to be the edition of ShuÊ¿ayb al-ArnÄʾūṠ(d. 1438/2016) and Ê¿Abd al-QÄdir al-ArnÄʾūṠ(d. 1415/2004), which has the endorsement of DahmÄn and is based on his earlier edition (Ibn QudÄma, 1991). Both ShuÊ¿ayb and Ê¿Abd al-QÄdir al-ArnÄʾūṠare not coincidentally modern major figures in the knowledge discipline of ḥadÄ«th from Damascus, with the latter subscribing to more or less the same SalafÄ« method as al-AlbÄnÄ«, and with a large following (Pierret 2013, 106, 108, 111). Al-Maktab al-IslÄmÄ«, an important puritan SalafÄ« publishing house, also has issued its own edition edited by its founder, the Damascene SalafÄ« scholar Zuhayr al-ShÄwÄ«sh (d. 1434/2013). In the introduction, when the editor discusses other existing epitomes, he mentions al-QÄsimÄ« as âthe shaykh of our shaykhs.â He explains that in his methodology of classifying its aḥÄdÄ«th he consulted the works and followed the methodology of âmy teacherâ NÄá¹£ir al-DÄ«n al-AlbÄnÄ«, with whom he indeed stood in close contact (Pierret 2013, 20). Ibn al-JawzÄ«âs epitome was only critically edited and published for the first time in history in 2010. This critical edition was made by KÄmil Muḥammad al-KharrÄá¹, with a preface by NaÊ¿Ä«m al-Ê¿IrqsÅ«sÄ« (b. 1951), currently one of the most important ḥadÄ«th scholars from Damascus (Ibn al-JawzÄ« 2010; Blecher 2018, 11â13).
These modern editions show the ongoing engagement of ḥadÄ«th scholars with criticism on this particular aspect of the IḥyÄʾ and the relatively royal embrace of SalafÄ« scholars and publishing houses of this specific text. The involvement of scholars like ShuÊ¿ayb al-ArnÄʾūṠand NaÊ¿Ä«m al-Ê¿IrqsÅ«sÄ« not belonging to the SalafÄ« trend, however, shows that it was also part of a broader trend of renewed interest in ḥadÄ«th criticism in twentieth-century Damascus (ʿĪdÅ« 2017; Snober 2020). As we will see, this broader revival of interest in ḥadÄ«th criticism also had its influence on other epitomes in the twentieth century from Syria.
This tradition of epitomes apparently left most of its traces in Syria. This is likely because of the influence of al-QÄsimÄ« on the emerging Syrian (and global) SalafÄ« trend and the edition of Ibn QudÄmaâs epitome on the religious educational curriculum. Not only the SalafÄ« scholars of Syria engaged themselves with epitomes of the IḥyÄʾ, the practice also gained ground in Syrian Sufi-oriented circles, with the same criticism of al-GhazÄlÄ«âs use of ḥadÄ«th. The scholar and activist SaÊ¿Ä«d ḤawwÄ (d. 1989) from Hama, a former leading figure in Syriaâs Muslim Brotherhood and committed NaqshbandÄ«, also compiled an epitome of the IḥyÄʾ in the 1970s. In his vision, Islamic political movements, also in their more militant forms, could not be successful without proper spiritual training for their activists (Weismann 1993; 1997). Therefore, books like the IḥyÄʾ were direly needed in a more simplified form according to ḤawwÄ, since many challenges from al-GhazÄlÄ«âs times were similar to theirs (ḤawwÄ 2004, 5â10). In his introduction, ḤawwÄ also explicitly mentions the question of ḥadÄ«th, like most authors addressing the issue of weak and forged narrations in the IḥyÄʾ. He says he has removed weak narrations from his epitome, as well as the thoughts constructed on these narrations, but stresses that they are not equal to forged narrations, since there is still a chance that the weak narrations are really the words of the Prophet. Wherever he has left the problematic narrations from al-GhazÄlÄ« intact, he explains, he has added the commentary of al-ḤÄfiẠZayn al-DÄ«n Ê¿Abd al-Raḥīm al-Ê¿IrÄqÄ« (d. 806/1403) to them, as well as the classification of the strength of the narrations and their sources, but only when they are sound in their meaning. Narrations from Prophets other than Muḥammad he has also excluded, since their reliability cannot be confirmed (ḤawwÄ 2004, 5â6). ḤawwÄ thus adopted an academic rigour in ḥadÄ«th criticism typical of the twentieth century in his approach to the ḥadÄ«th material in the IḥyÄʾ, stricter than the standards that one would thus far expect in the scholarly circles that he emerged from.
á¹¢Äliḥ al-ShÄmÄ« (b. 1934), the author of a book on al-GhazÄlÄ« that reads as an apology for his legacy, produced an epitome as well, in which he is relatively mild towards the problematic narrations al-GhazÄlÄ« included (al-ShÄmÄ« 1993a; 1993b). In his apology, al-ShÄmÄ« recognises that al-GhazÄlÄ« did indeed use a lot of problematic narrations, as is the consensus among his critics, and states that âevery reader of the IḥyÄʾ wished he had not done soâ (al-ShÄmÄ« 1993a, 166). In his defence he adds that the knowledge discipline of ḥadÄ«th was not part of al-GhazÄlÄ«âs formal training, while he was highly cultured in almost every other discipline of knowledge. He also defends al-GhazÄlÄ«âs use of ḥadÄ«th on the ground, that this was very common in his age for this type of topic. He quotes AbÅ« l-FidÄʾ IsmÄÊ¿Ä«l b. Ê¿Umar Ibn KathÄ«râs (d. 774/1373) defence of al-GhazÄlÄ« in this matter, and criticises Ibn al-JawzÄ« for himself not living up to the high standards on which he judges al-GhazÄlÄ« in his own parenetic works, like Dhamm al-HawÄ (âDisparagement of Passionâ). Even MinhÄj al-QÄá¹£idÄ«n and Ibn QudÄmaâs Mukhtaá¹£ar contain weak narrations after all, he states, and also scholars like Ibn al-Qayyim (d. 751/1350), known for his rigour in the knowledge discipline of ḥadÄ«th, still includes weak material (al-ShÄmÄ« 1993a, 166â168). He thus concludes that âtherefore the reasonable among the scholars held that the weak narrations in the IḥyÄʾ have influence on its value, but do not completely make it lose its status; especially after God made the classification of its narrations easy upon al-ḤÄfiẠal-Ê¿IrÄqÄ«â (al-ShÄmÄ« 1993a, 168). In the introduction to his epitome, he accentuates that he did not make yet another summary of the IḥyÄʾ, but rather a refinement (tahdhÄ«b), which in its essence still includes everything the IḥyÄʾ contains. He does not delve deeply into its critics on the topic of ḥadÄ«th, mentioning Murtaá¸Ä al-ZabÄ«dÄ«âs (d. 1205/1791) and TÄj al-DÄ«n al-SubkÄ«âs (d. 771/1370) defenses of the work in this matter as sufficient (al-ShÄmÄ« 1993b, 10â11, 15; Reichmuth 2009, 269â334). He does consider offering a version of the texts without weak and forged narrations as a goal, as suggested by al-Qaraá¸ÄwÄ« (d. 2022) in his work on al-GhazÄlÄ«, which he explicitly names as an inspiration to compose this refinement (al-ShÄmÄ« 1993b, 27). His summary of the al-Kasb wa-l-MaÊ¿Äsh shows that he perhaps was the strictest of all in this matter, leaving only three narrations intact, mentioning their classification as either sound (á¹£aḥīḥ) or good (ḥasan). Thus, we also see here that the importance of ḥadÄ«th criticism in the twentieth century has become so strong that it is adopted by scholars from trends that historically would not see a problem in citing weak material related to faá¸Äʾil al-aÊ¿mÄl. This was increasingly considered important to keep the credibility of the IḥyÄʾ intact, not only among scholars, as was already the case in premodern times, but even more when aiming at a lay audience who did not have the scholarly tools to classify the quality of narrations.
The method of ḤawwÄ and al-ShÄmÄ« is fundamentally different from Ibn al-JawzÄ« however: where Ibn al-JawzÄ« chose to radically replace the material cited by al-GhazÄlÄ« for material that he favoured, often with his own isnÄds attached, these two modern authors, rather, adopted the milder criticism of al-ḤÄfiẠal-Ê¿IrÄqÄ«, and kept al-GhazÄlÄ«âs own selection as the basis in their works. It is not so much the rigorous method of Ibn al-JawzÄ« that they adopted, but rather the mindset of ḥadÄ«th criticism that had become popular for a much wider audience than only scholars, in the twentieth century, and the new audience created by the rise of the printing press that they likely kept in mind. These epitomes were no longer intended for colleague scholars or religious students only, who would be well aware of the pitfalls of the IḥyÄʾ, but would also be read by lay people without any religious training, who would not be able to distinguish reliable from unreliable material themselves. This may have made a rigorous selection of material more necessary in their eyes.
7 Conclusion
This chapter has only scratched a very small surface of the reception of the IḥyÄʾ through the ages, only focusing on the aspect of ḥadÄ«th on virtue ethics in epitomes from ḤanbalÄ« and SalafÄ« circles. First, I have shed light on the aspect of narrative virtue ethics in the ḤanbalÄ« epitomes of the IḥyÄʾ from Ibn al-JawzÄ« and Ibn QudÄma, to see what the consequences of their refusal of using unreliable ḥadÄ«th on virtuous acts (faá¸Äʾil al-aÊ¿mÄl) has been for the way they dealt with the abundant aḥÄdÄ«th and ÄthÄr used by al-GhazÄlÄ« in his magnum opus. It appears that in the case of virtue ethics on earning and livelihood (al-kasb wa-l-maÊ¿Äsh) thematically Ibn al-JawzÄ« remained true to the selection of al-GhazÄlÄ«, but he replaced all narrations that he considered unreliable with ḥadÄ«th material that he considered reliable, often with complete chains of narration (isnÄd) through his own teachers. In the case of reliance on God (tawakkul) he changed the themes of the narrations as well, however, because he did not agree with al-GhazÄlÄ«âs excessive Sufi opinions on tawakkul, for which al-GhazÄlÄ« used unreliable ḥadÄ«th material as support. Ibn al-JawzÄ« thus intended to offer his readers and students a summarised version of the IḥyÄʾ as an alternative to the original work, which had become too popular among a large audience to debunk or neglect completely. By conforming the work to his high standards of ḥadÄ«th criticism he hoped that it would no longer undermine the elevated position of ḥadÄ«th in Islamic culture, as was his fear that would happen by the widespread practice of accepting lesser standards in the case of virtuous acts.
Second, I have reconstructed how and why these ḤanbalÄ« works with their exceptionally strict approach to ḥadÄ«th on virtue ethics rose to prominence in the twentieth century after being relatively marginal in the preceding centuries. The rigour of Ibn al-JawzÄ« on this particular aspect of the IḥyÄʾ was an exception in his own age and was only further popularised in the twentieth century, mainly through the impact of Ibn QudÄmaâs summary in reformist circles after its rediscovery and first print in 1928 by the Damascene SalafÄ« scholar Muḥammad Aḥmad DahmÄn. ḥadÄ«th criticism on the aspect of virtue ethics of the IḥyÄʾ had always been present historically but was not the main point of criticism on the work: it was commonly accepted to use unreliable ḥadÄ«th on virtuous acts (faá¸Äʾil al-aÊ¿mÄl). When reformist movements in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century revived the ideas of Ibn al-JawzÄ« on ḥadÄ«th criticism and consequently no longer accepted unreliable ḥadÄ«th on virtuous acts, this gradually changed. This point of criticism on the IḥyÄʾ became so paradigmatic in modernity, that even authorities such as al-ShÄmÄ« and ḤawwÄ, who defended al-GhazÄlÄ« on this point in their introductions and were more inclined towards Sufism than Salafism, became extra rigorous on this particular aspect of ḥadÄ«th than one would expect from them based on their scholarly persuasions.
Given the small sample presented here of the large reservoir of both premodern and modern epitomes of and commentaries on the IḥyÄʾ, we should not be too hasty in attaching grand conclusions to this revival of ḥadÄ«th criticism on the IḥyÄʾ. It would go too far for example to state that the rise of Salafism was so paradigmatic in the twentieth century that it completely changed the approach to ḥadÄ«th on virtue ethics in non-SalafÄ« circles. For that criticism on aspects of al-GhazÄlÄ«âs use of ḥadÄ«th has been too persistent in earlier times as well. It may be plausible, however, that non-SalafÄ« authors became extra wary of this criticism to keep their works acceptable for a larger audience than only their own circle, and thus further implicated the scholarly criticism of the likes of al-ḤÄfiẠal-Ê¿IrÄqÄ«, now that their works were intended for a larger popular audience than only specialist scholars.
These premodern ḤanbalÄ« epitomes still need further academic study to properly appreciate the reception of al-GhazÄlÄ«âs creedal and Sufi ideas in the circles of the ḤanbalÄ«s of Baghdad and Damascus, and in modern and contemporary Salafism, where these premodern ḤanbalÄ« scholars found a unique reception history, their works entering completely different dynamics than originally intended. This will not only potentially shed new light on the relation between historical Ḥanbalism, Sufism, and speculative theology, it may also lead to new insight on the historical continuity between premodern Ḥanbalism and modern/contemporary Salafism, a relation that is not yet properly and systematically investigated.
Classics of Islamic literature like al-GhazÄlÄ«âs IḥyÄʾ deserve a proper reception history to come to a deeper understanding of how this author and work have become such icons of Islamic thought. Epitomes keep appearing all over the Islamic world to this day, in very diverse settings (Garden 2016). I hope to have shown that the tradition of summaries on iconic works may prove rewarding to understand the reception history of these works. The study of commentary traditions has by now become a well-established trend in Islamic intellectual history. Perhaps it is time to place epitome traditions firmly on the map as well.
Acknowledgment
This work is part of the research program âThe origins, growth and dissemination of SalafÄ« QurʾÄn interpretation: the role of al-QÄsimÄ« (d. 1914) in the shift from premodern to modern modes of interpretation,â with project number 016.Veni.195.105, financed by the Dutch Research Council (NWO).
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Ibn al-JawzÄ« needs no further introduction here as a well-known scholar. The most important academic source for his biography is the work of Merlin Swartz (2002). There is an unresolved discussion about the identity of the more obscure author of Mukhtaá¹£ar MinhÄj al-QÄá¹£idÄ«n, who should by any means not be confused with Muwaffaq al-DÄ«n Ibn QudÄma (d. 620/1223), the famous author of the MughnÄ«. According to the á¹abaqÄt-works of ḤanbalÄ« scholars, his full name was Najm al-DÄ«n AbÅ« l-Ê¿AbbÄs Aḥmad b. Ê¿Abd al-RaḥmÄn b. Muḥammad b. Aḥmad b. Muḥammad Ibn QudÄma al-MaqdisÄ« (Ibn Rajab 2005, 4:231â232). The introduction to the Mukhtaá¹£ar also names him as Najm al-DÄ«n AbÅ« l-Ê¿AbbÄs Aḥmad, but then names him as the son of Ê¿Izz al-DÄ«n AbÅ« Ê¿Abd AllÄh Muḥammad, mentions his grandfather as Shams al-DÄ«n AbÅ« Muḥammad Ê¿Abd al-RaḥmÄn, and his great-grandfather as AbÅ« Ê¿Umar Muḥammad b. Aḥmad b. Muḥammad Ibn QudÄma al-MaqdisÄ« al-ḤanbalÄ«. So, there is an extra chain in the lineage (Ê¿Izz al-DÄ«n) that the á¹abaqÄt do not mention (Ibn QudÄma 1991, 9). All names in this lineage belong to a family of prominent scholars from the ḤanbalÄ« school that came to Damascus from Nablus as refugees from the Crusaders. They put their mark on the city, from the sixth/twelfth to the seventh/fourteenth centuries, with a unique combination of thorough knowledge of scriptural sources and religious charisma as popular preachers. The settlement of al-á¹¢Äliḥiyya, on the mount of QÄsiyÅ«n, in his age was the gathering place of scholars and followers of the ḤanbalÄ« school, often with roots in Jerusalem (hence the prevalent kunyÄ al-MaqdisÄ« among scholars from this part of the city). It was known for its vivid tradition of religious education and preaching, and brought forth many prominent scholars of the ḤanbalÄ« school (Leder 1997). The á¹abaqÄt-works do not mention much details about his life. As may be expected from hagiographical literature, he is described as someone of noble character, who memorised texts with great ease and had great insight. He was appointed as a judge before his thirtieth, worked as a teacher at the famous DÄr al-ḤadÄ«th al-Ashrafiyya in al-á¹¢Äliḥiyya, and was instructor of the ḤanbalÄ« study circle in the Grand Umayyad Mosque of Damascus. The á¹abaqÄt sources also report that he regularly bravely participated as a sworded horseman in jihÄd expeditions. He is said to have fought in the recapture of Tripoli on the Crusaders in 688/1289, under the auspices of the Mamluk sultan al-Malik al-Manṣūr QalÄwÅ«n (d. 689/1290). He passed away at the age of 38 (Ibn QudÄma 1991, 7â8; Ibn Rajab 2005, 4:231â232).
See al-GhazÄlÄ«âs AyyuhÄ l-Walad (âDear Pupilâ) as a comparison to al-JawzÄ«âs use of this introductory writing style.
This speculative theology is also followed in a mild form in KitÄb QawÄÊ¿id al-Ê¿AqÄʾid (âThe Foundations of Religious Convictionsâ) in the IḥyÄʾ, but profoundly changed in the epitome of Ibn al-JawzÄ«, and completely censored in the recension of Ibn QudÄma.
AbÅ« DÄwÅ«d 1999, 1:320â322: MÄ Asnada Ê¿Abd AllÄh b. MasÊ¿Å«d (âWhat Ê¿Abd AllÄh b. MasÊ¿Å«d Compiledâ).
al-BukhÄrÄ« 1422/2001, 8:113: KitÄb al-RiqÄq (âBook on Heart Softenersâ), BÄb Yadkhul al-Janna SabÊ¿Å«n Alfan bi-Ghayr ḤisÄb (âChapter on 70,000 Who Enter Paradise without Reckoningâ); Muslim n.d., 1:98: KitÄb al-ĪmÄn (âBook of Faithâ), BÄb al-DalÄ«l Ê¿alÄ DukhÅ«l ṬawÄʾif min al-MuslimÄ«n al-Janna bi-Ghayr ḤisÄb wa-lÄ Ê¿AdhÄb (âChapter on the Evidence that Groups of Muslims Enter Paradise without Reckoning and Punishmentâ).
I owe this insight to my conversations with Melle Lyklema (Utrecht University), who is preparing a dissertation on the subject of literature on preaching in the Islamic world.