November 20, 2010

News of Solomon's horses

The Prophet David was a passionate lover of horses. Never could he hear a horse praised for its pedigree or nobility, its beauty or its swiftness without commanding it be brought to him, until he had assembled 1,000 horses unmatched at that time by any others on the earth. When God took David to Himself, and Solomon had inherited his possessions and taken his father's seat, he said: "My father bequeathed nothing dearer to me than these horses," and saw to their care and feeding.

There are people of learning who say that God, be He exalted, produced 100 winged horses from the sea, and that these horses were called al-Khayr [his "Goods"], and that Solomon used to race them against each other, and that in his sight there was no greater marvel.

It is said that one day Solomon called for his horses, saying: "Show them to me, that I may know their markings, names and genealogies." The show commenced upon completion of his afternoon prayers. As the hour for evening prayers approached, a noble steed was in command of his attention, and horses kept him from his prayers until the sun was fully absent, having "disappeared behind the curtain" (38:32) - whereupon Solomon came to his senses. Reminded of his prayers, he begged God's pardon, saying: "There is no 'good' in wealth that distracts from prayer and remembrance of God!" Up to this point, 900 of his horses had been shown, with 100 still to go, but at Solomon's command the 900 were brought back and "he fell to striking their legs" (38:33) in atonement for letting the evening prayer slip past him. There remained 100 horses which had not been shown him, of which he said: "These hundred are dearer to me than the nine hundred that strayed me from remembrance of God." Thus does God say: "To David We gave Solomon, most excellent of worshipers. Staunch was he in his return [to Us]" (38:30). And Solomon's enthusiasm for horses did not cease until God took him to Himself.

[My father] Muhammad ibn al-Sa'ib al-Kalbi related on the authority of Abu Salih that Ibn 'Abbas said: "The Arabs first learned of these horses upon Solomon's marriage to Bilqis, Queen of Sheba, when a deputation of Azd came from Oman before the son of David. They questioned him about religious and mundane obligations until their curiosity was satisfied, and they were anxious to return home. 'O Prophet of God,' they said, 'our country is very far away, and we have exhausted our stock of provisions. Provision us with what will last us until we get there.' So Solomon gave them one of his horses, saying: 'This is your provision: when you set up camp, set a man on his back and give him a spear. You are to gather no wood and strike no fire unless he comes back with the spoils of the chase.' The Azdites did so, mounting a man on the horse and putting a spear in his hand every time they set up camp. But wood was always gathered and fire was struck, for it was never long before he came back with a gazelle or onager he had hunted. And for the whole length of their journey they had enough to sustain and satisfy them, and then some. The Azdites said: 'What shall we name our horse, if not Zad al-Rakib ["Provision of the Rider"]?' And that was the first that Solomon's horses were known to the Arabs."

From the Genealogies of Horses by Ibn al-Kalbi

November 12, 2010

News of Qalam

Muhammad ibn Mazid ibn Abi 'l-Azhar informed me that the singer Radhdhadh Abu 'l-Fadl (a courtier of al-Mutawakkil) was told by Ahmad ibn al-Husayn ibn Hisham:

"Qalam al-Salihiyya belonged to Salih ibn 'Abd al-Wahhab, and was one of the most skilled and famous singers of her day. A poem of Muhammad ibn Kunasa that she had set to music was sung in front of al-Wathiq:

    'I am pervaded by cringing and shame, ever since
        I surrendered to my private nature
    in the company of noble, upstanding folk,
        and was shameless in saying the things I said.'

" 'Whose composition is this?' asked the caliph. 'It is by Qalam al-Salihiyya,' he was told , 'the slave of Salih ibn 'Abd al-Wahhab,' So he sent for [his vizier] Muhammad ibn 'Abd al-Malik al-Zayyat, who soon appeared. 'Woe unto you,' the caliph said, '[if you can't tell me:] who is this Salih ibn 'Abd al-Wahhab?' Ibn al-Zayyat told him. 'Where is he?' said the caliph. 'Have him sent for, and his singing-girl along with him.' The two were brought before the caliph, and Qalam went into his chamber. At his command she sang for him, and the caliph was so pleased that he commanded she be sold to him. 'I will sell her," said Salih, for the governorship of Egypt plus 100,000 dinars.' Al-Wathiq waxed wroth at this, and returned a scathing answer.

"Some time later at al-Wathiq's court, Zurzur the Elder sang a song with lyrics by Salih's brother Ahmad ibn al-Wahhab, set to a tune by Qalam. It went like this:

    'The abode of lovers does not show itself clearly.
        A skeptical view is the truest you'll get.
    Whoever loves Layla is in for soul-rending:
        a predator's pounce, and no gratification.'

" 'Whose song is this?' asked al-Wathiq. 'It is by Qalam,' he was told, 'the slave of Salih.' So he commanded Ibn al-Zayyat to summon Salih and al-Qalam along with him. When they were brought before the caliph and Qalam had gone into his chamber, al-Wathiq ordered her to sing the song, which she did. 'This is your own composition?' he asked her. 'Yes, O Commander of the Faithful,' said Qalam. 'May God bless you and him who raised you,' said the caliph, and summoned Salih.

"Salih appeared and said: 'Since the Commander of the Faithful is struck with longing for her, it is unthinkable for me to retain possession of her. She is my gift to the Commander of the Faithful. My decision is to transfer her ownership to you, and may God bless you for it.' 'I accept,' said al-Wathiq, and ordered Ibn al-Zayyat to pay him 5,000 dinars. And he gave to Qalam ['Pen'] the name of Ihtiyat ['Prudence'].

"But Ibn al-Zayyat did not hand over the money, and forebore its payment. And Salih made this known to Qalam. So one day when al-Wathiq had greeted the morning with a drink, she regaled him with a song. 'May God bless you and him who raised you!' he said. She replied: 'Sire, he who raised me has received nothing for it but for weariness and loss on my account, and the result to him is zero.' 'Did I not order 5,000 dinars to be paid him?' the caliph asked. She said: 'But Ibn al-Zayyat has not given him anything.' So he called a trusted servant, and imposed on Ibn al-Zayyat the delivery of 5,000 dinars plus 5,000 more on top of that.

"Salih said: 'When I went to al-Zayyat with the servant and the message, he brought me close and said: "As for the first 5,000 dinars, here they are, take them. The other 5,000 I will pay you after Friday." So I left, and thereupon he pretended to forget he knew me. When I wrote to him of his debt, he sent me this message: "Write me out a receipt, and get the money from me after Friday." I was loath to do so as I had received none of it, and I declined to appear at my friend's house while he was there. When it dawned on him that I could not be found, Ibn al-Zayyat feared that I would complain of him to al-Wathiq. So he sent me the money in exchange for the receipt. Some after that the servant came to me and said: "The Commander of the Faithful commands me to ply you with this question: did you receive the money?" "Yes I did," I said. And with the money I bought an estate, and made it my haunt and home, and from that time forward I kept away from government work nor put myself in its way for any reason.' "

From the Book of Songs of Abu 'l-Faraj al-Iṣbahani

November 6, 2010

On the subject of handwriting

Among what poets have said on the subject of handwriting are the verses transmitted by Hisham ibn al-Kalbi, who said:

Al-Muqanna' al-Kindi praised al-Walid ibn Yazid in a poem, saying (meter: kāmil):

    Like letters in the books of a young scrivener, [his deeds are]
        precise and indelible, and with his pen he is unerring:
    a pen like a pigeon's downward-pointing beak,
        safe depositor of the sage’s knowledge,
    it marks the letters where he wishes to establish
        their clarity with diacritic strokes
    lifted from the blackened wick of ink,
        whose wool is tinted by the charcoal discharge.
    The nib is clipped closely, for it splits from much writing,
        like the clipping one trims from a fingernail’s edge,
    and the crack in its nib is repaired and made even,
        and watered with ink, which enhances its mending.
    It is silent, though eloquent in all that
        a tongue has to say, without speaking,
    for it has interpreters with tongues of their own
        whose translation into speech brings clarity.
    But his scribes do not write a single line
        that reveals what he wants to keep secret.
    To name him, the scrivener sets down a qaf, then a lam
        with mim hung from its bottom. [This spells 'pen.']

[In the same poem,] he goes on to say:

    A little gazelle said to her neighbor
        on glimpsing al-Muqanna' through his veil:
    'Fair was his face, but possessed of mixed aspect
        for paleness was countered by darkness of eye.'
    How many can boast of a herd of such camels
        - nimble-shanked Mahris one year past their teething -
    as al-Walid furnished with saddle and halter?
        Whose saddles and halters are equal to his?
    Whose colts just past teething are so battle-ready,
        their girth-straps filled out by mare's milk in abundance,
    as al-Walid furnished with saddle and rein?
        And whose reins and saddles are equal to his?
    To al-Walid, al-Muqanna' sends a poem
        like a sword honed on the blade of his own sword.
    His are the noblest of deeds of Quraysh,
        and so, on the death of Hisham, is the throne."

From The Book of Animals of al-Jahiz

November 3, 2010

A description of the locust

The locust has six legs, with two arms set in its chest, two legs in its middle and two at its rear. Both of its hind legs end in a saw. It is one of those animals that follow a leader, for it is organized in military fashion: after the first of them takes flight or makes a landing, all the others do the same. Its saliva acts on plants as a slow poison. Every plant it lands on is destroyed.

On the authority of Abu Hurayra, al-Bukhari relates that the Prophet, God's blessings and peace be upon him, said: "The prophet Job, God's blessings and peace be upon him, was bathing nude when he was showered by a flock of locusts all of gold, and began gathering them into his robe. Then God, be He exalted, called to him: 'Have I not kept you free of need for what you see?' 'Yes, my Lord,' said Job, 'and yet I still have need of your blessings.'" On this hadith, al-Shafi'i commented: "It is right that honest wealth should go to honest worshipers."

Al-Tabarani and al-Bayhaqi relate on the authority of Shu'ba that Abu Zuhayr al-Namiri said: "Do not kill locusts, for they are God's most numerous jund."* I say: If authentic, this hadith only applies when crops and the like are not exposed to ruin. Otherwise it is lawful to attack them. A jund is a "troop" (pl. ajnād and junūd), as in the hadith: "Souls are junūd mujannada," i.e. troops collected together, [a redoubled phrase] which is like ulūf mu'allafa ["thousands upon thousands"] or qanātir muqantara ["riches that are richly heaped"].

To Ibn 'Umar (may God be pleased with him and his father) is attributed the hadith in which a locust landed in the hands of the Prophet, God's blessings and peace be upon him. On its wings was an inscription in Hebrew, reading: "We are God's largest troop, laying 99 eggs, and if we were to lay 100 we would devour the whole world and everything in it." The Prophet, God's blessings and peace be upon him, said: "Dear God! destroy the locust. Kill the old ones, bring death to the little ones, and cause their eggs to miscarry. Avert their mouths from the crops and livelihoods of Muslims, You who hear my prayer." At this, Gabriel appeared and said: "Your prayer has been answered, but only in part." This hadith is also related by al-Hakim in The History of Nishapur.**

Al-Tabarani also relates that Hasan the son of 'Ali (may God be pleased with them both) said: "I was eating at a table with Muhammad ibn al-Hanafiyya and my cousins 'Abd Allah, Qatham and al-Fadl (the sons of my uncle 'Abbas), when a locust landed on the table. 'Abd Allah seized it and said: 'What is written on this creature?' I said: 'I asked the father of the Commander of the Faithful about that, and he said, "When I asked the Prophet about it, God's blessings and peace be upon him, he said: 'This is what is written on it: "I am God, there is no God but I: Lord of the locust and its provider. I send them to people as a provision and as a plague as it is My will." ' " ' " The commentary of Ibn 'Abbas: "This is hidden science."***

Editor's notes (by Ahmad 'Abd al-Basit Hamid):
*In his Assembly of Unique Narrations, al-Haythami says: "This hadith's chain of transmission includes Muhammad ibn Isma'il ibn 'Ayyash, who is a weak narrator."

**As related by al-Bayhaqi in The Branches of Faith, this hadith's chain of transmission includes one Muhammad ibn 'Uthman al-Qaysi. "This man is unknown," says al-Bayhaqi, "and the hadith is denied, though God knows best."

***This hadith appears in The Branches of Faith and in The Scattered Pearls of al-Suyuti, but in the three collections of al-Tabarani it cannot be found.

From Attainment of what is wished for in the field of locust lore
by 'Ali ibn Muhammad al-Mallah. (Cf.)

October 31, 2010

A description of the rain

Abu Hatim tells us that Abu 'Ubayda said:

One day, al-Nu‘man sallied forth after a rainstorm. On meeting with a mounted Arab on his camel, he hailed him, and the Arab obeyed his summons. "How is the land that you have left behind you?" Al-Nu‘man said.
      "Wide and spacious," said the Arab. "With easy lowlands, rugged hills and mountains firmly rooted, it is a capable sustainer of all that sits on it."
      "My question to you was about the skies," Al-Nu‘man said.
      "High and free-standing is its sky," the Arab said, "without the aid of poles or tent-cords. Its day and night are clearly separated, and its sun and moon follow each other in succession."
      "That's not what I’m asking you about!" Al-Nu‘man said.
      "Then say what’s on your mind," the Arab said.
      "Has there been rainfall, and if so can you describe it?"
      "Yes," the Arab said. "The rain installed itself over our land for three long stretches. It soaked the ground, left it swampy and then left it ankle-deep. When I went forth and surveyed the land, I found no part as far as Tish'ār that was spared. On every side, the clouds boomed out to each other, and heavily the flow drave on, erasing landmarks and filling hollows, and uprooting trees. All settled folk kept to their shelters, and no traveler could make a move until the sky quit harrying us with its blessings. When solid land had re-emerged, and pathways through the fields could be descried, I came out to observe the sky and every quarter of its rim. No refuge could I find except for caverns in the hills, for a jarr al-dabu'* had been disgorged: the lowlands were like seas of slapping waves, the rugged hills were wrapped in flotsam, and carcasses of wild animals were flung in all directions. And I have not ceased treading the sky’s residue and wading its waters until I reached your land."

*Abu Bakr said: The meaning of jārr al-dabu‘ "The Hyena Driver" is that it forces the hyena out of its underground lair.

From The Book of the Description of Rain and Clouds by Ibn Durayd

October 28, 2010

Al-Kindi on the rain, and why it seldom falls in Egypt

You ask (may God illuminate your pathway to the truth) what causes some places to get hardly any rain. If the cause for abundance of rain in some places were to be made plain to you (may God guide you aright), you might also appreciate (may God reveal to you all that is hidden) the cause for a prevailing lack of rain in other places, since it is in combination that contrarieties become known.

[...] All bodies undergo contraction when chilled, after which they need a smaller place than the one they occupied before their chilling. When heated, they undergo expansion, and need a larger place than the one they occupied before their heating. Therefore does air flow from a hot, expanded location toward one that is cold and contracted, and this flow is what we call the wind (for our usage gives the name of "wind" to the flow of air and "wave" to the flow of water). This explains why the wind is greatest when the sun's heat is shed along its southern inclination: expanded by that heat, air from the south flows north to where the air has been chilled by its remoteness from the sun.

When the sun is in its northern inclination it heats the areas to the north, and those in the south become chilled. The northern air then expands and flows in the direction of the south, due to the cold-induced contraction of the air there. For this reason, most summer winds are northerly winds, and most winter winds come from the south – except for winds which arise (in some cases all at once, in others little by little) from such sublunar factors as the course of rivers, the occurrence of floods, [and the influence of] stagnant waters, open meadows, the sun’s reflection on the tops of stony mountains, irrigation, agriculture, woods and wetlands. These factors (and others like them) contribute to the flow of vapor in different directions, which the various winds distribute according to the disposition of the earth’s territories (high places and low, caverns and open places), the influence of any fires burning therein, and so on.

The vapor made to flow across the face of the earth by the sun’s alternation between north and south was likened by ancient Greek sages to a freshwater sea of alternating tides, and they called it Okeanos, the earth-encircling sea.

When vapor ends up in a place whose distance from the sun’s path chills the air to the point that the vapor’s volume is reduced, the vapor becomes thick and dense and is converted into water by the air around it, which releases it in the form of rain upon the earth (along with any particles of earth taken up as earth-vapor). Meanwhile, these vapors crowd the air with their weight and set it moving, turning it into wind (which is the flow of air).

Vapor attains its maximum degree of density when it flows into caves or between mountains where its flow is hampered by the cold, or checked by an opposing flow of air, in the way that vapors have of being redirected by sublunar factors (as we have already described). But if vapor winds up in a location devoid of what reduces its volume and chills it, it spreads beyond that location until it encounters what we have defined as cold, condensing factors -- whether or not the land itself accumulates much standing water. For vapor is raised from the earth every day the sun casts it heat, and after it sets even more moisture may be released in the form of dew, having been attracted in the form of vapor that flows in from elsewhere, as happens daily in all forests.

As for those locations (be they in the south or elsewhere) whose moisture falls short, devoid as they are of any means of containing the vapor flowing into them from the south (due to the lack of high encircling mountains to the north) and furnished as they are with continual air currents (either by the influence of great quantities of moving water or the nearness of a body of water at its northern end), – locations in which the flow of vapor is diverted elsewhere due to some stronger flow prevailing against its wonted northward course – the presence of rain in those locations is very small. So it is in the country of Egypt, whose air on the north side lacks high mountains, and where most of the vapor flowing south to north (from the Sea of Abyssinia) is deflected by the mountains of the Beja (such as al-Muqattam and the mountains near it), so that the Sea of Abyssinia’s vapors flow towards Iraq.

From the treatise On why some places almost never get any rain

October 11, 2010

By the author of Aristotle Among the Arabs

I came into this world by chance, and by chance I will depart it. One proof of this is that if my father had not stooped to recover a blown sheet of paper that drifted to the ground one October day in 1913, he would have lost his life. On the evening of that day, an assassin hired by one of his enemies came near his seat in the mayoral house and fired a round of bullets at him. At that very moment, the sheet of paper he was reviewing (which was a brief from the shari'a court) took flight - and at the moment he bent over to retrieve it, the bullets buried themselves in the door behind him, grazing only the edge of his turban. "Is God alive?" he shouted, and fell silent. The assassin, believing he had dealt my father a fatal shot, took off running for his benefactor's house. My father recovered instantly, however, and ran off after him, keenly surmising that he would be led to the house of a wicked adversary called Gado Zarad. Along the way he called out for people to join him on the trail, and in half an hour they had Gado's house surrounded. Half the village turned out and stormed the house, and when they did not find the perpetrator one of their number led an attack on an unroofed house next door where he had fled. The man was found hiding in a corner and was seized and bound with ropes, as was the man who hired him. And my father sent word to the police in Fariskor (some 80 km from Sharabass), who came and took the men into custody and drove them back to the station in Fariskor. My birth took place 40 months later, on February 4, 1918.

If you examine the life of any person, you will find that a kind of chance is what gives rise to his or her birth, i.e. the chance encounter between the spermatazoa of a man and the egg cell in a woman. Whoever concludes from this that there is order or intentionality or a plan is just a dreamer. All that's at work are causes, operating in competition with each other, engendering whoever is engendered and annihilating whoever is annihilated.

'Abdel Rahman Badawi, The Story of My Life, v. 1, ch. 1.

June 28, 2010

How rain is known as line and circle

One of the internal perceptive faculties that are proper to the living animal is fantasy [Gk. phantasia], which is the “common sense.” Its place is in the first chamber of the brain, where it receives into itself all that is conveyed to it from the totality of forms impressed on the five senses. Another faculty is positioned in the rear part of this chamber: this is the imagination [Ar. al-khayyāl], which is the form-producing faculty. It preserves what the common sense presents to it from the five individual senses, out of what remains there after the sensible objects are no longer present. It is well known that reception and preservation are the work of separate faculties. Think of water, which has the capacity to receive an imprint or an inscription and to take on any shape, but lacks the capacity to retain them (in a way that we will clarify later).

If you want to know the difference between the action of external sense generally, the action of the common sense, and the action of [the form-producing capacity of] the imagination, consider how you see the falling drop of rain as a straight line, and how you see the end-point of that cylindrical straight line as a circle. A thing cannot be perceived as a line or a circle until it has been looked into multiple times. External sense is unable to see it at two [separate] times, but sees it rather as it happens to be.
What is impressed on the common sense and passes away is perceived by the external sense as it happens to be. After it is effaced, its form remains in the common sense, which perceives it as if it were still there, just as when it happened to occur. The form-producing faculty sees an extended body which is spherical or straight, and this is something that can in no way be attributed to the external sense. The form-producing faculty perceives both matters, and gives form to them both, even when the thing itself no longer exists or is absent.

Then there is the faculty called "post-imaginative" with respect to the animal soul, and "cogitative" with respect to the human soul. This faculty is positioned in the central chamber of the brain, at the cerebellar vermis. Its characteristic function is that it combines and separates the contents of the imagination as it will. Then there is the estimative faculty, positioned at one end of the brain’s middle chamber, where it perceives the meanings [Ar. ma'ānī] which are not perceived through particular sensations. Such is the [above-mentioned] faculty present in the sheep, which determines that this wolf is to be fled from and that this lamb is to be cared for. It seems that this faculty is also what effects changes in imaginary objects, combining and dividing among them. Then there is the retentive, recollective faculty located in the hindmost chamber of the brain, which retains what the estimative faculty perceives in the way of meanings unperceived through particular sensations. The relationship of the retentive faculty to the estimative faculty is like the imagination’s relationship to the senses, and the relation of that faculty [the estimative] to the ma'ānī is like the relation of this faculty [the imaginative] to the sensible forms. These are the internal perceptive faculties of the animal soul.

On the soul (The Cure: Physics, book 6) I.5

Avicenna on extra-sensory perception

Reminder. The common sense is a tablet. When its surface is occupied by an impression, that impression is also made in the judgment of the beholder. Sometimes when the sensible object withdraws from the senses, its form remains for a while in the common sense and in the perceiver’s judgment, in isolation from the imagination. In this connection, you should recall what was said to you about the rain that falls in a straight line, and the circular impressions left by its scattered droplets. When, on the tablet of the common sense, the likeness of a form is produced, that form is then perceived, whether it is at the beginning of its state of being impressed from without, or persisting along with a persisting sensation, or as something fixed after that sensation has ceased. Alternately, [a form] might occur in the soul in a way that owes nothing to sensation.

Pointer. Forms that are present and available to external sense may be perceived by unwell and bilious sorts in isolation from the external sense-objects themselves, impressed on the soul through an internal cause which may or may not be influenced by some other cause. The common sense may also be stamped by a "wandering" form that strikes the seat of imagination and estimation; likewise, imagination and estimation may receive an impression from the tablet of the common sense. It is something like what happens between two mirrors that face each other.

Reminder. There are two causes that distract from this sort of impression. One is sensory and external; the other is produced internally by the intellect or the estimative faculty. In the former case, the tablet of the common sense is occupied by some other impression made upon it, effectively usurping [the attention] and wresting it away from the imaginary entity. In the latter case, the activity of the imagination is checked as the intellect or the estimation intervenes in what is occupying the soul, and the imagination is made compliant to it, and loses its power over the common sense. The imagination is no longer capable of making an impression on the common sense, for its movement is weak – something which follows, but is not itself followed.

If either of these two distracting faculties is stilled, the other one remains. It may happen that the remaining faculty is unable to check the imagination; in these cases, the imagination regains its power over the common sense, which is then taken over by signs of forms [such as are] beheld by the senses.

Pointers and Reminders 10.12-14

June 10, 2010

Avicenna on that helium

Reminder. From what has gone before, you know that the particulars are stamped on the intellectual world in their universal aspect. After that, you were led to notice that heavenly bodies are endowed with souls that have particular perceptions and desires proceeding from their particular point of view. There is no bar to their forming concepts of the particular concomitants that arise from their particular movements in the elemental world.

If this observation, concealed as it is from all but those whose intellect is stanched in elevated wisdom, is in fact true -- namely, that after the separated intelligences which are theirs as a matter of principle, they have a rational soul which takes in no material impression, and that furthermore these retain a certain connection, as between mortal souls and bodies, through which they are empowered to obtain a certain perfection; -- If this is true, then heavenly bodies are provided with a supplement, meaning that they present both a universal view and another view particular to them. What you should gather from these remarks is that the particulars do make an impression on the intellectual world in the form of a universal figure, and in the world of the soul the impression they make is time-sensitive and takes the form of a particular figure.

Pointers and Reminders 10.9

April 22, 2010

Al-Jahiz on inarticulateness

Animals are divided into “articulate” and “inarticulate,” though not in the sense those words are generally used in Arabic. They are so called in the way that “silent” is said without misunderstanding for what is not at all silent, and “speaking” is said for what never raises its voice. Whereas people speak with each other when they come together, animals use bellowing, bleating, braying, neighing, yodeling, mooing, whooping, howling, barking, crowing, meowing, grunting, screeching, hissing, yelping, clucking, croaking, roaring, razzing, rattling and hissing.

There are other instances [of words, like "inarticulate," that have more than one antithesis], such as dhukūr which means “males” as opposed to females, like the merchants’ caravan [in its separation] from the women’s caravan. Dhikr [pl. dhukūr] is furthermore what we call “the upper-handed” of any two parties that come face to face or take [their leave?] of one another.

The articulate animal is the human being. Inarticulate is every animal whose voice is only understood by other members of its genus. We, I aver, understand many of the desires, needs and aims of the horse and the ass, the dog and the cat and the camel, just as we understand the desire of the baby in his cradle, knowing (and it is an exalted form of knowledge) that its crying signifies something different from what is signified by its laughter. Also we understand that the horse’s whinnying when it sees its feed-bag is different from its whinnying when it sees a mare, and that the cat’s call to the tomcat is different from her call to her young. And examples of this are many.

Human beings are articulate, even if they express themselves in the language of Persia or India or Greece. The Greek understands clear Arabic no better than an Arab understands the Greek's outlandish speech. In this sense, all people may be said to be “articulate.” When they say “inarticulate,” distinguishing it not from “articulate” but from “Arab,” they do not have this meaning in mind. Rather, they mean that the “inarticulate” man does not speak Arabic, and that an Arab cannot understand him. And Kuthayyir says:

   Fa-būrika mā a'ta 'bnu Laylā bi-niyyatin
      wa-sāmitu mā a'ta 'bnu Laylā wa-nātiquhu


   In what Ibn Laylā gives off there is no way for you to learn his intention.
      What Ibn Laylā gives out is of two kinds: silent, and vocal.


When they say: “He came bringing what is loud and what is silent,” the “silent” refers to [inanimate goods] like gold and silver, and the “loud” refers to any animal. Here it means he spoke, and fell silent. “Silent” refers to anything [in the way of capital] excluding live animals.

Considering what is in the world, we find its existence to be [the product of God’s] sagacity, and of [the products of] that sagacity we find two kinds: the thing that has no concept of sagacity or what it entails, and the thing that does conceive of sagacity and what it entails. The thing that conceives and the thing that has no concept are equally signs of [God’s] sagacity, but they are different from the standpoint that one is a sign that lacks the power of inference, and the other is a sign that has that power. As signs which lack the power of inference, animals (with the exception of people) are aligned with inanimate matter. To be a sign that also has the power to infer from signs was given to people. A connector was then made to be their guide to the various aspects of inference from signs and what results from inference. And that is what they call “intelligibility” [al-bayān].

The Book of Animals I 31-33

January 5, 2010

Avicenna on writing, speech, and psychic trace

"Human beings are endowed with a perceptive faculty on which the forms of external matters are impressed. From there the forms are conveyed to the soul, where a second impression is made, one which persists even when those forms are no longer present to the senses. Now matters may be impressed on the soul in other ways which resemble the conveyance of the senses, as when an impression is made on the sense, and its sensible form is subsequently converted into an abstraction; alternately, impressions may come along another route which it is not the job of logic to explain.

"Matters have an existence in themselves and an existence in the soul, which leaves traces there.

"Out of its need for association and community, human nature is dependent on communication, and was motivated to contrive a means to it. [To that end] there is nothing swifter than the action of the voice, which is especially well adapted given the voice's evanescence and impermanence, and its lack of simultaneous plurality. In addition to its swiftness, it has the benefit of enabling semiosis, along with its effacement when the need for signifying has passed (lest it be construed as a signifier after this). Therefore nature inclines toward use of the voice, and is outfitted by grace of its Creator with the instruments for articulating phonemes and arranging them so that the traces in the soul are signified.

"After that there follows a second need, and that is for a path to knowledge of what is currently inapparent or still to come in the future. What is learned in the future can be added to the record of things already known, for the benefit and completion of humankind’s wisdom through mutual association. Most of the arts are only brought to completion by the development of the ideas they contain, and the discovery of their laws, with the latecomers assisted by the predecessors in whose footsteps they follow, and this is to the benefit of those still to come. Even what is not currently needful may prove useful. Some other path to knowledge besides speech was therefore needed, so the various forms of writing were contrived, all by divine guidance and inspiration."

"The signification of real-life matters within the soul is a natural mode which does not vary as to its signifier or signified, as does the utterance's signification of the psychic trace (in which the signifier does vary although the signified does not), nor is it like writing's signification of the utterance and writing (in which signifier and signified alike may vary).

"As for the process by which the soul imagines the forms of real-life matters and what sets that process in motion, and what it is that attends to the forms when they are inside the soul, and what attends to them when they are outside, and what the causal agent is that rouses the imaginative faculty to actuality -- these questions do not pertain to logic but to another field of knowledge. Likewise, the arbitrariness of speech and writing may be debated by linguists and scribes, but the logician speaks of it only in passing. The aspects of utterance which the logician does need to know about are the conditions by which simple and composite meanings are indicated, in order thereby to gain insight into meanings themselves, the better to gain insight from them into the unknown. For this is the logician’s job."

From On interpretation (The Cure: Logic, book 3), I.1