## 1. Life




Few facts of Ibn Kammuna's biography are confirmed (Pourjavady &
Schmidtke 2006, 8-22, for most biographical details and bibliography). He is
presumed to have been born in Baghdad and to have spent most of his
life there. However, there is good evidence that he spent some time in
Aleppo; his presence in that important intellectual center explains
certain facets of his activity that are otherwise difficult to account
for (Langermann 2007). He may have been descended from a family of
courtiers; he certainly had connections to some high officials, some of
whom were his patrons. Ibn Kammuna also corresponded with some leading
intellectuals, notably Nasir al-Din al-Tusi. Shortly before his death
in 1284, Ibn Kammuna fled Baghdad for the nearby town of Hilla. This
move has long been thought to have been forced upon Ibn Kammuna by
hostile reaction to one of his books. However, it has recently been
suggested that it is more likely to be connected to the execution of
one of his patrons.




Ibn Kammuna was certainly born into a Jewish family. Though his
writings as a rule do not betray his Judaism--if anything, they
read like the work of a devout, if philosophically inclined,
Muslim--his two forays into comparative religion exhibit a clear
bias in favor of rabbinic Judaism. Some subtle polemics are detectable
in glosses that he wrote to an important work of Islamic
theology. (This is discussed in the next section.) On the other hand,
his attraction to Sufi-style piety does not betray any influences of
earlier Jewish ventures in the same direction, notably by the
descendants of Maimonides. But did he remain Jewish until his death?
The evidence from citations in later writers, who generally refer to
him as a Jew, would indicate so. However, there are
counter-indications; one may also take note of numerous pious
references to the Prophet in Ibn Kammuna's writings, not all of which
can easily be ascribed to later scribes. The great bibliographer
Moritz Steinschneider opined that Ibn Kammuna in fact converted; his
arguments were countered by some of the great pioneers of
Judaeo-Arabic studies, notably D.H. Baneth. Pourjavady &
Schmidtke, in their recent book-length study (2006), doubt the story
of Ibn Kammuna's conversion.


## 2. Writings




The latest studies on Ibn Kammuna have focused mainly on his
psychology; his writings and doctrines in that field will be discussed
below. Judging in terms of its impact on modern scholarship,
especially when one moves beyond the rather narrow confines of
specialists in late medieval Jewish and Islamic philosophy, as well
its impact upon his own personal life, Ibn Kammuna's *Tanqih*
(*Examination of the Three Faiths*, English translation by
Perlmann) is his most important work. The fundamental premise of the
treatise, and one that informs other of his writings as well, is that
there is a single theory of prophecy that is accepted by Jews,
Christians, and Muslims alike, and which, moreover, meets the truth
standards of philosophy. What remains, then, is to compare the claims
that are particular to each of the three faiths. Though
the *Examination* should not be classified as a polemical work,
as it contains no outright attack on any faith, its pro-Jewish bias is
quite evident. Ibn Kammuna constructed the Jewish view he presents by
means of a combination of ideas drawn from Maimonides and Judah
Hallevi. While this seems at first to be an odd mismatch of
authorities, Ibn Kammuna was not the only Jewish thinker to harmonize
the two eminent Andalusians. Christians and Muslims rejected the way
their tenets were presented, and representatives of both penned
rebuttals (Pourjavady & Schmidtke 2006, 106-113). On the other
hand, no Jewish reaction of any sort to the *Examination* has
reached us. It should be added that neither in the
*Examination*, nor in any other work, does Ibn Kammuna make any
unambiguous reference to Buddhism; given the political realities of
Mongol rule (the Mongols had not yet converted to Islam) as well as
Ibn Kammuna's broad interests, one might have expected him to exhibit
some curiosity.




Ibn Kammuna wrote a much shorter treatise on the differences between
the two main Jewish groupings, Rabbinites and Karaites (English
translation by Nemoy). Here again, despite the absence of any open
polemics, it is clear that Ibn Kammuna's sympathies lie with the
Rabbinic majority.




Ibn Kammuna's most significant contribution to the history of
philosophy is his detailed commentary to Suhrawardi's
*al-Talwihat*. (Several editions have appeared and are
discussed in the last section of this entry). This is the first known
commentary to that work, which, though more Aristotelian than other
writings of Suhrawardi, still conveys essential points of the Ishraqi
philosophy. Directly through his commentary, and indirectly by means
of his influence upon Qutb al-Din al-Shirazi (1236-1311), Ibn Kammuna
was very instrumental in the initial phases of the exposition and
diffusion of Suhrawardi's thought.



*Al-Jadid fi 'l-hikma* (*The New Wisdom*); is a
comprehensive exposition of thirteenth century science and
philosophy. (For a preliminary study, see Langemann 2005; the titles
of this book are discussed in the final sections below.) Numerous
manuscript copies exist (Pourjavady & Schmidtke 2006, 87-92). Ibn
Kammuna experimented with different formats and especially different
lengths in his philosophical writing. He adhered to the traditional
tri-partite classification of logic, physics, and metaphysics, in a
lengthy format (*al-Jadid*), a highly condensed version
(*Talkhis*; see Pourjavady & Schmidtke 2006, 94, for
bibliography, and an edition of the Arabic text, 196-206), and quite
likely a middle length version (*Risala fi 'l-hikma*),
whose authenticity is still unresolved (Langermann 2005, 279-286).




Similarly, he has left us a medium length pietistic work (*Kalimat
wajiza*) and a much shorter version of the same treatise
(*Ithbat al-mabda`*); but he also confides that he may expand
upon the *Kalimat wajiza* (Pourjavady & Schmidtke 2006,
140). Even if that plan never came to fruition (no evidence of this
longer version has as yet turned up), it indicates his conviction that
important topics ought to be discussed in all three formats, which
presumably take into consideration the varying abilities of people to
devote time to study. The two extant pietistic texts are published
(with no discussion of the contents) by Pourjavady & Schmidtke
2006, 139-195. Langermann (2017) has published an annotated
translation of the *Ithbat*. These are discussed further below,
in the penultimate section.




Ibn Kammuna wrote glosses to an important work of Islamic theology,
Fakhr al-Din al-Razi's *al-Ma'alim* (Schmidtke & Pourjavady
2007). In part this is a supercommentary, that is, a response to an
earlier set of glosses prepared by his contemporary, Najm al-Din
al-Katibi al-Qazwini (d. 1277). In some places Ibn Kammuna defends
al-Razi against the strictures of al-Katibi al-Qazwini, but in others
raises criticisms of his own against al-Razi. Some of the latter
betray upon close reading a subtle anti-Islamic polemic. For example,
his long gloss on the first query in chapter seven (Schmidtke &
Pourjavady 2007, 96-98) is a critique of the role of miracles in
establishing the prophetic mission. Ibn Kammuna names no prophets,
concentrating instead on the precise definition of *mu'jiza* (the Arabic
term for miracle) given by al-Razi himself in other writings, which
contradicts his definition in this particular work; and further
arguing, again on theoretical grounds, that a tradition can be false
(or at least contain some falsity) even if the transmitters are
many. However, in the query under scrutiny, al-Razi is speaking
specifically about Muhammad. Thus Ibn Kammuna's critiques amount in
effect to a rejection of the proofs for Muhammad's prophetic
mission. Later on, though, Ibn Kammuna makes specific criticisms of
Judaism and Christianity (Schmidtke & Pourjavady 2007, 226). The
glosses are written in a the highly technical language of Islamic
theology, which is very different from the philosophical diction he
uses in other writings. Ibn Kammuna has clearly mastered both
idioms. 


 

Several paradoxes are associated with Ibn Kammuna, and these continue
to exercise Iranian thinkers down to the present. These are discussed
in the final section of this entry. He has also left us some minor
writings and correspondence; some pieces of a medical writings have
also been recovered (see Pourjavady & Schmidtke 2006 for
bibliography; medical fragments published, translated, and analyzed in
Langermann 2007, 14-19).


## 3. Evaluation and Image in Modern Scholarship




Ibn Kammuna's work in psychology attracted the interest of the great
pioneer in Islamic studies, Ignace Goldziher (1896), who devoted a
short study to Ibn Kammuna's arguments for the soul's
immortality. However, Ibn Kammuna's main claim to fame in the
twentieth century was certainly his *Examination*, which was
widely hailed as the first dispassionate, scientific, non-polemical
comparative study of its sort. Henri Corbin's (1945) 2-volume work in
French opened up the world of Suhrawardi and the Ishraqi philosophers
for western scholarship, and signaled Ibn Kammuna's key role in the
diffusion of Suhrawardi's thought. Nonetheless, we still have no clear
picture of a distinctive Ibn Kammunian interpretation of Suhrawardi,
if such a thing exists. His philosophy belongs to the elaboration,
refinement, and defense of the Avicennian tradition, led in his day by
Nasir al-Din al-Tusi, with whom he corresponded. On the other hand, he
evidently accepted some of the criticisms leveled at Avicenna by
Abu-l-Barakat al-Baghdadi and Fakhr al-Din al-Razi. Finally, the
present article hopes to add to his intellectual portrait the deep
piety evident in his ethical treatises, which draw upon Jewish,
Islamic, and non-denominational philosophic sources.


## 4. The Science of the Soul


The science of the soul (*'ilm al-nafs*) is an important topic in all of Ibn
Kammuna's philosophical treatises. In addition, he wrote three
monographs, two of which aim to prove that the soul is eternal, and a
third which refutes the claim that the soul is nothing but the
temperament or mixture of the bodily humours, as well as the view that
the soul comes into being along with the body. (Pourjavady &
Schmidtke 2006, 100-106). His special interest in studying the soul
(*nafs*) calls for explanation. Like so many other features of
his work, it can be understood only in the context of the Avicennan
legacy. Avicenna took his perception of his own self to be the most
certain piece of knowledge that he possessed. (It may be noted in
passing that in Arabic, *nafs* means both "soul"
and "self"; though Avicenna took care to be as precise as
possible in his terminology, this double-entendre has an inevitable
presence in Arabic psychological literature, especially in the wake of
Avicenna). This approach is totally at odds with the Aristotelianism
that, in all of its flavors, was the foundation of Islamic
philosophies. Throughout his life Avicenna struggled with the complex
of problems ensuing from his insight, especially in the realms of
psychology and epistemology, without ever arriving at a satisfactory
solution. The conundrum reverberated in the work of the following
generations.[1]





Ibn Kammuna took the Avicennan reformulation as his basic conception
of the soul. In lengthier writings he would of course review the
faculties, properties, and so forth associated with the soul; but the
fundamental notion was that of the individual's self-awareness. For
example, in the introduction to his essay *On the Immortality of
the Soul*, he writes "The (word) soul is a designation of
the essence of the individual, to which one refers when one employs
the pronoun 'I' in saying 'I have done thus and
so', 'I have reached such and such'"
[trans. Nemoy 1958, p. 86]. In his pietistic *Brief words*
(*Kalimat wajiza*, to be discussed at length later on in this
essay), Ibn Kammuna complains that a full discussion of the soul's
properties, mode of binding to the body, and so forth, would be
"lengthy"; he is content to refers the reader "to
books by those who have preceded [us]". For his purposes,
"the most important [point] that has been made, and the closest
to comprehension...is that the soul is that to which each one
refers when saying 'I', as in 'I perceived',
'I did this'"...) (Schmidtke and Pourjavady 2007,
p. 151).




Nonetheless, Ibn Kammuna parted ways with Avicenna, and with the
mainstream philosophical tradition, on the key issue of the soul's
pre-existence. Avicenna denied that the soul existed before the human
was born, but Ibn Kammuna held that the soul's pre-existence is
intimately connected with its immateriality, and a doctrine that must
be accepted in order to prove the soul's survival after the death of
the body. And, indeed, as Lukas Muehlethaler has shown in a series of
publications, Ibn Kammuna labored to shore up the demonstrations of
psychological doctrines throughout. In his commentary to Avicenna's
*Isharat* ("Pointers"), where the "Flying Man"
thought experiment is displayed, Ibn Kammuna puts Avicenna's verbal
argument into syllogistic form. (Whether the syllogism is productive,
and, in general, just how well Ibn Kammuna has succeeded in answering
the modern critics of Avicenna, remain open questions; see Muhlethaler
2009 for full discussion). Ibn Kammuna boldly claims to have
formulated the first demonstrative proof for the soul's eternity a
parte ante. Indeed, for Ibn Kammuna the soul is really an intellect (*'aql*)
that is called "soul" when it is associated with a
particular body (Muehlethaler 2012).


## 5. Philosophy: Following the Thread of Intuition


### 5.1 Introduction




Ibn Kammuna looms as a philosophical writer, a learned and keen
student, who bequeathed to posterity not a "philosophy"
but rather a rich assortment of philosophical studies. Some, such as
his *New Wisdom*, aimed at a synthesis; others, like his
commentary to Suhrawardi, are primarily an essay in the interpretation
of the thought of others; yet others, e.g., the monographs mentioned
in the preceding section, address specific issues to whose resolution
Ibn Kammuna feels he can contribute. Scholarship on his output,
however, has displayed less interest in literary form, intended
audience, and specific objectives; instead, in keeping with an
academic tradition, it has focused by and large upon the
identification of his "sources", even at the level of
sentence by sentence, or phrase by phrase, analysis. This approach has
reaped some important insights, for example, the combination of
Avicennan and Suhrawardian statements in connection with the notion of
existence.




One drawback of this approach is the patchwork image it impresses upon
the modern student, as if Ibn Kammuna set out to prepare a quiltwork of
philosophical sources rather than to take a stand on the issues. But is
this the way his writings present themselves to the reader who is
innocent of academic scholarship? Ibn Kammuna is aware of the
questions that are under debate, and as a rule he formulates a clear
point of view. Nonetheless, his views may well have changed over the
years--not at all surprising, if, as some think, he made the more
traumatic act of switching religious affiliation. It is in any event
clear enough that his expressions, emphases, agreements and
disagreements, inclusions and exclusions, were in part functions of
the literary genre which he chose for any given work. He could be
critical in his commentaries, insofar as he would look closely at the
text he was explicating and cite alternative views, but he would not
reject outright the views of the author whose work he was commenting
upon. In his original writings he was freer to take a personal
stand.




If we also keep in mind the nascent state of scholarship on the man
and the period in which he flourished, the best course of action for
the present essay seems to be this. We shall take one very central
concept, *hads*, most often translated "intuition", and
follow it through Ibn Kammuna's major works. (It will become clear
that in this context, intuition is a sui generis state, which, on the
epistemological scale, falls between the discursive reasoning of very
bright individuals and the gift of prophecy.) This will allow us to
get a handle on a key feature of his philosophical thinking, as well
as to observe the different ways the same concept is treated within
the different projects that Ibn Kammuna undertook. Note that we shall
be alert to the utilization of the concept, even if the
term *hads* does not appear in the text under scrutiny.




Strictly speaking, *hads* is the revelation--some would add
instantaneously--of the middle term of the syllogism, leading to
an infallible conclusion. In practice, though, it had much wider
application and less precise definition. Rare indeed is the case,
when *hads* is cited as the source of knowledge, that the
writer will display the full syllogism and specify the middle term
(see Langermann 2005, 286-302, and Gutas 2001). In effect, it is of
the same species as the "revelations" by which Avicenna
learned of his own existence (and indeed the great bulk of his
education) and, like that Avicennan moment, it shifted epistemology in
the direction of a reliance upon a person's sense of security in his
personal illuminations . In the work of later thinkers, including Ibn
Kammuna, the evaluation of *hads* served to legitimize alchemy and
astrology and, more generally, to blur the distinction between
demonstrative knowledge and revelation.



*Hads* was not just one more function to be added to the basket
of terminologies used to explain psychological processes. Two
applications in particular must be singled out. First of all,
*hads* offered an analogy to prophecy; no other phenomenon from
the world of humans, extraordinary as it may be, seemed as close to
prophetic revelation. Second, it offered a way to account for great
scientific acumen. Prophecy, scientific discovery, and intuition in
general all lead those who experience them to certain knowledge
in a moment of
revelation, in general, knowledge that had not been available before.


### 5.2 Examination




Earlier attempts to explain the phenomenon of prophecy in terms of the then-accepted workings of the human psyche, for example, that of
Maimonides, found analogous or proto-prophetic symptoms in two types
of human inspiration. The first of these includes veridical dreams,
divination, and other cases in which the unknown is revealed. The
second comprises instances where people spontaneously perform acts of
bravery, leadership, or literary creativity, and thus act in a manner
that appears to be above the ordinary. These ideas were helpful in
developing a political theory of prophecy; the prophet, like the
philosopher-king, is a visionary, gifted with bold leadership as well
as the ability to impose a code of behavior upon his people. The main
difference is that the code of the prophet is expressly not of his own
devise, but rather revealed by some supernal source. On the whole, Ibn
Kammuna downplays the political function of prophecy. The prophet does
have an important role to play in organizing and ordering society.
However, the thrust of Ibn Kammuna's analysis emphasizes the
epistemological advantages of the prophet rather than his political
skill. Moreover, as political leader, he is charged with inculcating
correct religious belief; Ibn Kammuna sharply distinguishes between
the prophet on the one hand, and rulers of *jahiliyya*
(uncultured, lacking a proper revealed code) cities on the other.




The prophet's distinction from others is to be explained in
psychological terms by the perfection of his *hads*. In
developing this theme, Ibn Kammuna makes the bold claim that
*hads* is the ultimate basis of all human knowledge. All
knowledge that is acquired is either a direct intuition, acquired by
someone suitably equipped, or instruction in items of knowledge that
has been acquired by someone else by intuition:



> 
> 
> As for their [prophets'] perfection, it is due to the perfection of
> their speculative intellect, and for this reason. The middle term, by
> means of which one succeeds in acquiring intelligibles that were
> [hitherto] unknown, is at times obtained by means of *hads*, at
> others by means of instruction. However, *hads* is the basis of
> instruction. Things thus trace back without a doubt to intuitions
> which the masters [of intuition] arrived at. They then conveyed them
> to students. However, it is possible for someone to have an intuition
> on his own; the reasoning gels in his mind without a teacher.
> [Perlmann (ed.) 1971, p. 12; translation by the author]




Humans exhibit the full range of endowments, from the dull witted who
never intuit, to those who are able to satisfy all or nearly all of
their quests by means of intuition. The variation is seen both in the
quantity of percepts that are obtained intuitively as well as in the
speed of intuitive act. (Nonetheless, it should be added that Ibn
Kammuna places the limit at "the quickest and shortest
instant"; unlike Ibn Sina, for example, he does not claim here
that intuition takes no time at all.) It is certainly possible that,
at the upper bounds of human capacity, one may find an individual
blessed with "an intense purity and an intense connection to the
supernal sources" such that he can intuit all or most of what
humans are capable of knowing, "not by means of an uncertain
tradition, but by means of middle terms and demonstrative
proofs." *Hads* accounts not only for the quickness and
independence of the prophet's knowledge, but for its certainty as
well. It meets the requirements of formal logic, since it supplies the
middle term of the syllogism, and hence is demonstrative.


### 5.3 *The New Wisdom*




We examine first the theoretical discussions (following Langermann
2005, 286-302). In the chapter dealing with demonstration
(*burhan*), Ibn Kammuna lists the seven types of judgment
(*hukm*) by means of which one asserts or verifies
(*tasdiq*) premises that are to be employed in a syllogism.
*Hadsiyyat*, intuitive judgments, are the last on the list,
and Ibn Kammuna defines them simply as "what the soul judges
to be certain on the basis of evidence (*qara'in*) other
than that found in the [six] sources (*mabadi'*) that have
been mentioned above" (al-Kabisi 1982, 196; author's
translation). Ibn Sina does not include *hadsiyyat* in his
classification of premises; Suhrawardi does include
*hadsiyyat* in two of his lists, but neither is identical
to the one found in *al-Jadid*. Despite all of these
developments, however, Ibn Kammuna supplies here exactly the same
time-worn example used by Ibn Sina (and before him by Aristotle), i.e.,
the fact that the moon's light derives from the sun.




In a later section of *The New Wisdom* Ibn Kammuna reproduces
almost word-for-word the final definition of *hads* given by Ibn
Sina in his *Pointers* (*al-Isharat*), one of his later
writings. He begins by noting that progress from first intelligibles to
secondary ones can be either by means of *fikr* (cogitation or
reflection) or by *hads*, "in that the middle term
presents itself to the mind all at once, either as the result of a
search and desire [*shawq*] for it, without any [corresponding]
motion [of the soul], or without any impulse [*ishtiyaq*] or
motion." Ibn Kammuna continues, "Along with it, the
object of the search [i.e. the conclusion of the syllogism] and that
which it entails present themselves. There is no difference between
reflection and intuition, other than the presence of motion in
reflection and its absence in intuition" [ed. 441].




It is not difficult to find numerous examples of the application of
*hads* in *The New Wisdom*; it has much harder to see how
*hads* is to be integrated consistently into a comprehensive
scientific program. Here follow some items of knowledge that are said
to derive from *hads*. *Hads* indicates to astronomers,
even where logical necessity does not, that the planets require more
than one orb in order to complete their motions [ed. 402]. In the life
sciences, we know by means of *hads* that irrational animals
carry out their biological functions unconsciously [ed. 424]. As for
metaphysics and psychology, we conclude by means of *hads* that
intellect is more perfect than soul [ed. 517], and that bodies (or
their species) are but shadows of spiritual entities [ed. 522].
*Hads* and repeated experience (*tajriba*) together
indicate that the body is the only impediment to the soul's conjunction
with the pure forms [ed. 492].




The last example is particularly important because it illustrates
the intimate connection between *hads* and *tajriba*, a
connection maintained by Ibn Kammuna (and others) throughout.
*Tajriba* is the most usual justification for the knowledge
claimed by astrologers and alchemists. Hence both *hads* and
*tajriba* aim to function as sources for hidden knowledge within
scientific systems that are based upon (ultimately) Aristotelian logic.
Although it is repeatedly invoked as the source for scientific
knowledge, *hads* is not a tool of scientific inquiry, but
rather a way of explaining, *post facto*, how a thinker hit upon
the solution to a difficult problem. As such its function in science is
very much the same as its function in explaining religious inspiration
and prophecy.


### 5.4 Commentary to Suhrawardi, al-Talwihat




The Ishraqi philosophy of which Shihab al-Din al-Suhrawardi (d. 1191)
is considered the founder, has intuition as the basis of its
epistemology, at least in
 theory.[2]
Illumination (*ishraq* in Arabic), in a
word, describes the event, which many speakers of English would also
call intuition, which yields knowledge swiftly and certainly. Intuition
plays a major role in *al-Talwihat*, which is considered to be
one of Suhrawardi's more peripatetic writings. It is not surprising,
then, that Ibn Kammuna frequently mentions intuition in his commentary
to *al-Talwihat*. It should be borne in mind, though, that true
to his role as commentator, Ibn Kammuna will as a rule try to flesh out
and expand upon Suhrawardi's intentions, rather than expressly
developing his own ideas.




We shall limit ourselves here to a few examples drawn from the partial
edition of this commentary published by H. Ziai and A. Alwishah, which
covers part two of *al-Talwihat* and whose subject is natural
science or physics. Ibn Kammuna describes in one place quotes
approvingly Suhrawardi's account of how greatly people differ in this
respect: "People differ with regard to
*hads*. There are the doltish, who have never had any success
in thinking; and there are those with powerful *hads*. Many of
the latter exceed others in quantity and quality; but there is no
limit, at which one must perforce stop. It is possible for there to be
someone who perceives by means of *hads* most of the
intelligibles in a short time and without a teacher; and there is a
[type of] soul called 'holy' whose capacity is as powerful
as that of the prophets" (Ziai & Alwishah 2003, 456).




Other passages afford us an opportunity to sample how *hads*
is employed in various scientific, or, as we would judge today, occult
contexts. In laying forth an account of some twelve phenomena,
including various optical effects in the atmosphere, thunder,
lightning, and comets, all of which are produced by "vapors"
originating in the earth (much as Aristotle had argued in his
*Meteorology*), Ibn Kammuna adds that, conjoined to those
causes, *hads* judges that there must be "spiritual
forces" that are due to celestial configurations (Ziai &
Alwishah 2003, 254). Animals other than man have a rational soul; this
ties in to the question of metemsomatosis. The reasoning will be
evident to someone who employs
*hads*, but not to someone who either willfully shuts off
*hads*, or was simply not born with that gift (Ziai &
Alwishah 2003, 346-7).


### 5.5 Key Issues in the Science of Wisdom (al-Matalib al-Muhimma fi 'ilm al-hikma)




This treatise is concise in length but encyclopedic in character. (See
the edition by Musawi 2003; see also Pourjavady & Schmidtke 2006,
92-3.) It is divided into seven sections. Here as always logic
is the first topic to be discussed, but *hads* is not mentioned
at all in the section on logic. It does however figure in the seventh
and final section, which deals with psychology. In line with some
trends of the time, Ibn Kammuna here ranks "the science of the
soul" as the most sublime of the sciences, because the human
soul is analogous to the deity.




The fifth "query" of the final section focuses upon the
cognitive capacities of the human soul. These vary from person to
person, just as bodily endowments vary. However, at the high end of
the spectrum, there exists a human soul whose cognitive ability is for
all practical purposes unlimited. At this level, human cognition is a
"taste" of the divine. Ibn Kammuna explains:



> 
> 
> Only someone who has experienced (literally "tasted") the
> true reality of the divine fragrances can represent these things to
> himself. But from among the souls that do not attain this by means of
> their innate disposition, some do [manage to] acquire it, whereas
> others are not able to acquire anything at all. Whosoever abandons
> bodily excesses, makes the best of necessities, and keeps away from
> people [by living] in mountaintops and empty spaces, thinking about
> the fine points of divine wisdom, intensely and purely devoted to Him,
> and at times singing about this in well-known harmonious melodies,
> with poetic speech, about the greatness of God Most High--he will
> receive some of the divine pleasures, such that are impossible to
> describe, and speech is too restricted to express; that is, if he is
> endowed to accept this path. All of this is known through experience
> to the person who finds it within himself, and by recurrence along
> with intuition to the one who is endowed (Musawi 2003, p. 85
> translation by the author).




Here as elsewhere, *hads* is paired to *tajriba*
("experience") and is described as an innate gift. Here,
however, Ibn Kammuna adds adds an important point. Those who did not
receive the gift of *hads* at birth can get a taste of the
divine if they cultivate the Sufi methods of isolation, mediation,
music and prayer.


### 5.6 Pietistic writings (Kalimat wajiza, Ithbat al-mabda')




The Arabic originals of these two intimately related treatises were
published for the first time by Pourjavady & Schmidtke (2006); an
annotated translation of the *Ithbat* was published by
Langermann (2017). In these writings, Ibn Kammuna pays far less
attention to questions of cognition than he does in his other
writings. However, here as elsewhere, he takes note of the abilities
of gifted people to grasp issues that remain recalcitrant to others
who are not so endowed. Here again Ibn Kammuna connects this special
mode of cognition with *tajriba*, repeated experience. In
addition, he emphasizes here that the fruits of this special type of
knowledge can be fully appreciated only by someone who has experienced
them. It is thus striking that he does not employ the technical
term *hads* in the course of his exposition, or, indeed,
anywhere at all in these two writings.




Consider this passage from the *Kalimat* (Pourjavady &
Schmidtke 2006, 158, author's translation): "If, however, a
weakening of the bodily impediments were to be joined to the strength
of the soul, whether this [strength] be original [*asli*, here
meaning 'inborn'] or acquired, the way the soul is
strengthened by practice or the training that is associated with
'those who know' [i.e., the Sufis], then the bond is made
firm in such a way that the soul will attain many hidden things,
copious items of knowledge, and illuminative pleasures, whose true
nature can be apprehended only by someone who has found them
himself." A few lines down *tajriba* is mentioned:
"Many wonderful things of the souls are known by means of
repeated experiences (*tajarib*), repetition, and some form of
reasoning (*qiyas*)."



*Tajriba* does appear in the passage just cited, but it is not
mentioned at all in the shorter pietistic treatise, *Ithbat
al-mabda`* (*Establishing the First Principle*). On the
other hand, Ibn Kammuna does employ in the shorter work several
cognate terms to describe the person who can grasp a certain fact
immediately and without the need for lengthy demonstration: *dhihn
salim* ("healthy mind," Pourjavady & Schmidtke
2006, 188), *dhu fitana* ("clever," Pourjavady
& Schmidtke 2006, 189), *dhu lubb*
("understanding," Pourjavady & Schmidtke 2006,
189).




The terminological conundrum intensifies when we bring into the
discussion another term, *dhawq*, literally "taste".
*Dhawq* is a Sufi term and refers to a usually fleeting, intense
religious experience, which leaves the adept knowing something more
than he knew beforehand. Viewed as a phenomenon of the human mind, it
is essentially the same thing as intuition. It is used in exactly this
sense by Ibn Sina--significantly, in the monograph on
the rational soul considered to be his very last
 work.[3]
Suhrawardi adopted the term
for his version of knowledge based upon intuition, *hikma
dhawqiyya*; in Ibn Kammuna's *New Wisdom*, *hads* and
*dhawq* are synonymous (Langermann 2005, 300). Yet in the
pietistic writings, where one would expect to find the usual Sufi term,
*dhawq* is not employed.




There is little difference between the ideas expressed in these two
treatises and those in the other writings. In all cases the basic
thought is that some people are born with an innate ability to swiftly
arrive at conclusions that are certainly true. There remains the technical
distinction, in that *hads*, and *hads* specifically, is
said to disclose the middle term of the syllogism. However, one should
not make too much of this. For one matter, even in cases
where *hads* is invoked, we rarely if ever can determine just
what the syllogism is for which *hads* has revealed the middle
term. One important exception is the reasoning that leads to the
momentous conclusions drawn from the "Flying Man"
experiment (see Muehlethaler 2009). Moreover, whether or
not *hads* is specifically mentioned, intuition or spontaneous
comprehension is paired to *tajriba*.




The chronology of Ibn Kammuna's writings will not solve the problem
either. The *Kalimat* seems to have been written well after Ibn
Kammuna had already been exposed to the writings of Ibn Sina and
Suhrawardi, both of whom make much of *hads*, as we have seen
(Pourjavady & Schmidtke 2006, 8-12). We are thus confronted here
with the historiographical and methodological question of the weight
to be given to technical terms as opposed to ideas, a question that
the present writer opts to leave open.


## 6. Piety and Ethics




Ibn Kammuna's writings as a rule deal exclusively with speculative
matters. Two recently published treatises, however, give equal weight
to praxis, in line with the pairing of *'ilm* and
*'amal* (knowledge and practice) that appears in the title of
the longer work; this pairing was widespread among Sufis but by no
means limited to them alone. Ibn Kammuna usually identifies the reader
of these tracts as an *'aqil*, literally someone who employs
his intellect; this too is quite common. Other expressions he uses to
describe his audience are "seeker of perfection" and
"seeker of salvation (*najat*) and perfection."




The speculative philosophy expressed in these writings is in keeping
with the views that Ibn Kammuna expresses elsewhere. However, he has
in mind here a very particular type of *'ilm*;
"true" *'ilm* is not, as he tells us, what people
generally think. Rather, it is self-knowledge: knowledge of one's own
shortcomings, and of one's obligations to worship God. Knowledge of
this sort is goal directed; it serves to weaken one's
connections or involvement in this world, and to produce a concomitant
intensification of one's inclination towards the other world. The
sections on
*'amal*, which urge an ethical program steeped in piety, reveal
a side to Ibn Kammuna that has not been mentioned, let alone
adequately explored, in the scholarly literature to date. The
following paragraphs are an attempt to bring to the fore some salient
points. We shall offer some suggestions towards contextualization,
which are necessarily tentative and preliminary.




The tension-free concord between reasoned, independently verifiable
knowledge and knowledge based on revelation and tradition (science and
faith, to put it more simply) manifest in these writings is noteworthy.
Ibn Kammuna raises none of the ostensible contradictions that so
troubled Ibn Sina, al-Ghazali, and Maimonides. A series of generally
facile arguments are given for the existence of God and his attributes.
In general, the conception of the deity is informed more by His
goodness and bounty than it is by His power and judgment.




Consistent with the concerns so prominent in his other writings, Ibn
Kammuna devotes a great deal of space (half of part one of the *Kalimat*, which deals with *'ilm**,* whose meaning in
this text has been described two paragraphs above) to the human soul
(*nafs*; the meaning of this term in this text has been given
above, section II), its quasi-divine nature, and its survival after
death. His discourse on these issues is philosophical. In the second
part of this treatise, however, Ibn Kammuna shifts to a Sufi mode of
exposition. In keeping with Sufi notions, he emphasizes the key,
critical role of the *qalb*, literally "heart", as
the epicenter of human goodness. However, he does not adopt the very
common Sufi opposition of *nafs*, "soul", to
*qalb*, where the former stands for passions and bad moral
traits. Instead, he defines *qalb* as "the eye of
*nafs*. ("Eye" in this context has much the same
meaning as it has in the English phrase, "the eye of the
storm")."




Both treatises display a thorough integration of religious and
philosophical ideas and ideals. As Ibn Kammuna writes at the beginning
of the *Kalimat*: "The masters of traditional religions
and of intellectual tenets agree that salvation and eternal felicity
depend upon belief in God, the end of days, and doing good
works" (Pourjavady & Schmidtke 2006, 142). Elsewhere Ibn
Kammuna speaks of "the people of wisdom and revelation."
The values and ideas expounded in these two works look to represent a
consensus that has been reached by these two groups, who, in different
circumstances, were thought to be very much at odds with one
another. We cannot say as yet how widespread this concordance was as a
social phenomenon. In any event, it was shattered a century later by
Ibn Taymiyya and his followers, who assaulted the
"foreign" sciences from different angles.



*'Amal* is definitely subordinate to *'ilm*; in this
sense, the pietistic treatises continue the strong scientific
orientation evident in all of Ibn Kammuna's writings. However, praxis
is by no means a concession to the low intellectual level of the
masses, as it is often thought to be in "political"
conceptions of religion; nor is it merely a device to restrain bodily
drives. Praxis and science reinforce each other in a specific way:
"From the states of the limbs, lights ascend forth to the
*qalb*, just as from the gnoses (*ma'arif*) of the
*qalb*, lights descend to the limbs. This is the secret of the
elevation of souls by means of bodily devotions" (Pourjavady
& Schmidtke 2006, 161). There is thus a distinct and immediate
spiritual reward for praxis, even for--perhaps especially
for--the enlightened.




The *Kalimat* is dedicated to a Muslim patron, and it easily
and naturally reads as a work of Muslim piety. However, on close
inspection, there is nothing distinctly Muslim about it. Ibn Kammuna
is driven by the same idea of spirituality and religiosity common to
Muslims, Jews, Christians, or non-denominational philosophic theists
of the type described by Judah Hallevi in his *Kuzari*, a book that Ibn
Kammuna studied closely. It is striking that the only Qur'anic verse
cited, from the fifty-seventh *sura* ("Iron", verse
3) has, at least for its first part ("He is the first and the
last..."), an exact parallel in both the Hebrew and
Christian bibles.




Just how much Jewish ethics, biblical, rabbinic, and medieval, Ibn
Kammuna has included is difficult to determine. Jewish and Islamic
ethics have been intertwined all along; by the thirteenth century, some
rabbinic ideas had become thoroughly islamicized on the one hand, and,
on the other, Jewish versions of Sufism were well-established. Jews
cited snippets of the Qur'an as apothegms of universal wisdom, rather
than as the scripture of a particular faith
 community.[4] So
when Ibn Kammuna says that "The beginning (*ra's*,
cf. Hebrew *reishit*) of wisdom is fear of God," is he
consciously importing the verse from Psalms 111:10? Overall, Ibn
Kammuna appears to have formulated an original "Abrahamic"
philosophical piety. Both the philosophical foundations underpinnings
(concepts of the deity and of humanity) as well as the moral values
and spiritual exercises, were carefully crafted so as to be acceptable
to all monotheists .


## 7. Shubahat: Paradoxes, Problems, and Sophistries




 A number of "problems" (*shubuhat*; the Arabic
refers to all forms of obscurities, including what we call paradoxes
and sophistries) are attributed to Ibn Kammuna. These have challenged
Iranian philosophers in particular from the sixteenth century onwards
(Pourjavady & Schmidtke 2006, 37-51). Some but not all can be
traced to known writings of Ibn Kammuna. One of these is the famous
liar paradox, which Ibn Kammuna discusses in *The New Wisdom*;
some later figures mistakenly thought that Ibn Kammuna had invented
it. Another, much discussed item is "the problem of unity"
(*shubhat al-tawhid*). Especially since Ibn Sina, the deity was
widely identified with *wajib al-wujud*, "that whose
existence is necessary"; but, as a philosophical category, is
"necessary existence" necessarily unique? Muslim and
Jewish thinkers would certainly want it to be so, but proving this
point was no simple matter. At one place Ibn Kammuna argues from the
interconnectedness of all reality, which implies that a single
"necessary existence" must stand at the top of the causal
chain. He may have picked this up from Maimonides who noted in his
*Guide of the Perplexed* (Part I, Ch. 72) that the unity of
reality is an important indication for the unity of God. Elsewhere,
however, he chose a more torturous route. Were there more than one
"necessary existence", then, rather than being a unique
essential characteristic, "necessary existence" would
perforce be demoted to the rank of an accident shared by two or more
beings. It was this proposal that was debated and criticized by later
thinkers.




Another "problem" is a sophistry that ties in with some
recondite issues in logic that exercised Ibn Kammuna and his
contemporaries, especially conversion by contraposition (Langermann
2007, 11-13). It appears that Ibn Kammuna tried to manipulate the
simple observation that creation (*huduth al-'alam*) is not
counterfactual, that is to say, it does not require one to deny
immediate reality (*al-waqi'*, reality or actuality as it
presents itself here and now), into a formal proof: creation does not
necessitate the denial of immediate reality; whatever does not
necessitate the denial of immediate reality is immediately real; ergo,
the creation of the world is immediately real.




Ibn Kammuna communicated this "proof" to Nasir al-Din al-Tusi, who
proceeded to uncover its
 fallacies.[5]
For example, the contraposed major premise,
"whatever does not necessitate the denial of immediate reality is
immediately real," when written in its positive formulation, requires a
rider: "Whatever is absent from immediate reality (*ghayr
waqi'*, grammatically a positive sentence in Arabic) necessitates
the negation of immediate reality, as long as it remains absent from
immediate reality." The rider, however, makes the premise hypothetical,
and that, in turn, changes the rules as far as conversion is concerned,
and does not allow the conclusion Ibn Kammuna wishes to draw.


## 8. Recent Editions



It is a common complaint in the field of Islamic philosophy,
especially in its post-Avicennan phases, that we lack editions of
primary texts; this complaint was voiced in the first version of this
entry. In the intervening years, not a few editions of writings by Ibn
Kammuna have appeared. Two key texts have been reissued in the
original. Dr Lwiis Saliba has reissued the *Tanqih al-Abhath*
(*Examination the Three Faiths*, published by Byblion, in
Byblos, Lebanon 2009; a second printing was made already in 2010) in a
volume of nearly 600 pages, provided with a detailed introduction and
copious notes, all in Arabic, but with a very good command of academic
publications in European languages. Simon Bellahsen has published a
French translation of the *Examination*, including a
translation of portions from the biography in Pourjavady and Schmidtke
2006: Examen de la critique des trois religions monotheistes,
Paris: Vrin, 2012. H.J. Isfahani published a new edition of
the *New Wisdom*, which he chose to give an alternative title,
*Kitab al-Kashif* (*The Revealor*), published jointly by
the Iranian Institute of Philosophy and the Institute of Islamic
Studies of the Free University of Berlin, Tehran 2008.



Only a very small portion of the commentary to
Suhrawardi's *Talwihat* was published by Ziai and Alwishah. Now
two editions of the full text have been prepared: a three volume
doctoral dissertation by Sayyid H.S. Musawi (Tehran University, 1385
Solar, 1996/1997) and a three volume publication by N. Habibi (Tehran
1387 Solar, 2008/2009.) Joep Lameer scoured all three editions and
published a thirty page review (2012). He concludes that we are still
in need of a reliable edition.




These are welcome developments, to be sure, but there is cause for
further reflection. In particular, the arguments advanced by Ibn
Kammuna have as a rule not been taken into account by the editors, who
must decide between variants in the manuscripts, or by the critics who
review the editions. Simply taking note of variants missed by one or
more editor, even if these seem to be significant, is not enough; we
would like to see a discussion of sample passages, with full analysis
of the implications of the different readings. At times there is no
grammatical, syntactical, or lexical reason a priori to choose one
variant over the other. Without fully understanding the passage in
question, errors may ensue; an example of this given by Langermann
2009, p. 282. Earlier editions must not be dismissed as worthless
unless one can provide examples to prove such an extreme
claim. Moreover, changing the title of a book in mid-course without
any justification (all agree, for example, that Ibn Kammuna himself
gave no title to the work commonly referred to as the *New
Wisdom*) introduces confusion with no compensatory payoff.