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Soroush interview:
Travelers on one ship
Part Five
(Soroush: ) ... Besides, Muslims would never pretend to be Shari'
or religious lawgivers. So change in religion itself is out of the question.
But, at the same time, change is undeniable and should be recognized and
explained. In this context, I applied the insights that I had gained from
the philosophy of science that all phenomena, to paraphrase philosophers
of science, are theory laden, that we view the world through theoretical
lenses and thus there is no such thing as a naked event or a brute fact.
When we dislike one interpretation of an event, we inevitably replace it
with another.
By the way, contrary to popular belief, it was not Popper's but Quine's
theories on the philosophy of science that guided my explorations of the
philosophy of religion. And I reveal it here for the first time. Quine
is a philosopher of logic who is still alive and is the focus of much critical
attention. His theory is that all science is interconnected and, as such,
judged as a whole, not as a collection of individual discrete theories,
in the tribunal of senses. This is the opposite of Popper's thought.
Popper, in essence, believes in individual theories appearing, one by
one, in the court of experimentation to be assessed by the principle of
falsifiability. It was Lakatos who, with the help of Quine's ideas, developed
the notion of "research programs" in science: a whole family
of theories, organized in a research program, enter judgement's court.
In my book on Contraction and Expansion of Religious Knowledge
I have based one of my main arguments on this thesis. Again, when I was
writing that book I was unaware that I was under the influence of Duhem
and Quine's theory; only in retrospect did I perceive this connection.
In any case, these were some of the preambles of my thesis of contraction
and expansion, which I first taught in classes and then published as articles
that were later compiled as a book. This thesis poses the question whether
there is such a thing as religious knowledge with a collective nature;
my answer is affirmative.
The contention is, then, that this form of knowledge is, like other
forms of knowledge, subject to all the attributes of knowledge. It is human,
fallible, evolving, and most important of all, it is constantly in the
process of exchange with other forms of knowledge. As such, its inevitable
transformations mirror the transformation of science and other domains
of human knowledge.
Sadri: Let me interrupt you here to ask you if you remember in
what year you formulated these twenty theses?
Soroush: It must have been around 1982 or 1983. I must still
have it somewhere, and since I date all my notes, the exact date should
be there. Afterwards, I gradually incorporated these ideas into my courses,
particularly in modern theology (kalam) which, as you know, deals
with skeptical attacks and religious counter attacks.
For instance, Marxian or Freudian premises and other ideas that emanate
from humanities and social sciences spearhead attacks on theology. This
leads to a renewal of theology as it grapples with new questions and ineluctably
modernizes its logical arsenal with the help of the disciplines it debates.
Thus modern theology, by its very nature is in constant renewal, a process
that highlights the relationship of modern theology to other sciences as
well. Their interaction resembles the craft of a locksmith who builds both
keys and latches.
Modern linguistics, for example, can create new problems for religion.
Take the question whether religious propositions can be meaningful or not.
Theologians who try to address this question will inevitably familiarize
themselves with the principles of modern philosophy. These were the step-
by-step realizations that led me to the statement I quoted earlier: religion
is people's understanding of divinity just as science is people's understanding
of nature.
It sounds rather obvious now but it was not so evident at the beginning.
At that time it seemed farfetched to argue that religious knowledge is
a variety of human knowledge, subject to change, exchange, contraction,
and expansion. Once we look at the scene from above, that is, from a second-order
vantage point, we will see believers with a variety of ideas, but religious
knowledge as a whole would appear as a mixture of right, wrong, old, and
new that floats on like a vast river. I went on articulating different
aspects of these arguments in my divinity school lectures.
Here again I can reveal, for the first time, that I had a colleague
who was also interested in these issues. He would make appointments with
me and I would discuss certain aspect of these arguments with him. After
a while he told me that my ideas were great but that they were extremely
dangerous. He reminded me of the fate of Abdol Razigh of Egypt (who wrote
about the relationship of religion and state and whose house was set on
fire).
However, this same individual went ahead and published the arguments
that I had shared with him under his own name. This led me to expedite
the publication of these articles. The first edition of the book created
a wave of criticism that I included in later editions of these writings.
My continuing contemplation of Rumi made me gradually better acquainted
with Sufism. The more I thought about the difference between Ghazzali and
Rumi, the more interested I became in the subject. For a while, Ghazzali
dominated my mind and soul. Truly, had it not been for Rumi, perhaps no
one could have freed me from Ghazzali's charm.
In Ghazzali, I witnessed the fear-based mysticism in its most detailed
and eloquent form; in Rumi, I found love-based mysticism; in Hafez the
pleasure-based mysticism (or maybe no mysticism at all). And I could not
find, most unfortunately, a power-based or epic mysticism. This is what
I think is lacking in our culture and literature.
Gradually I realized that these are different understandings of religiosity
and divinity. Rumi, too, before reaching love-based mysticism and becoming
the Rumi we know, had attained fear-based mysticism. He taught me a new
kind of religiosity, and through him I discovered a wealth of insights
into the nature of humanity, religion, and God that I would not have been
able to glean from any other source.
As I gained these insights, I discussed them with my students, and I
thought they were quite moved. My first and foremost attempt to understand
the essence of religion originates in the works of Rumi. Just as my inquiries
of the religious cannon was anchored in the works of Ghazzali. Thus I learned
the place of ritual and legal religiosity (figh'h) in the context
of religion as a whole.
I ultimately realized that there is such a thing as an individual religion
based on personal experiences, whose teacher is Rumi; just as there is
such a thing as a collective religion which is what shari'a and
figh'h teach, and which is Ghazzali's domain.
I have other unpublished reflections on the nature of figh'h
and its uneasy relationship with the esoteric dimension of religion. These
scattered reflections, published in a number of places, eventually found
their way into a books on Ghazzali, Rumi, Hafez, and Shariati, which I
entitled the Story of the Lords of Wisdom. I envision other volumes
in this series devoted to Saadi, Ibn Khaldoun, and others.
The collective characteristic of religion and the strength of its influence
on social life became more obvious to me after the revolution. This led
me to further interrogate the thought of the late Dr. Shariati and his
ideologization of religion, which I contrasted to the pluralism that was
a requirement as well as an outcome of the thesis on contraction and expansion.
As a result, I arrived at the conclusion that ideologization of religion
binds it to a single interpretation and generates a class of "official"
interpreters; a conclusion inimical both to Shariati's intent and to my
own thesis of contraction and expansion. I have explicated this in my book:
Loftier Than Ideology. I will return to this issue later but first
let me mention some scattered ideas I have developed over the past few
years.
My work on the philosophy of ethics culminated in the book Fact and
Value whose argument is based on a Humean hint concerning the derivation
of ought from is. Later on I expanded it with reference to the philosophies
of early Motazelis and Ash'aris and some contemporaries such as the late
Tabatabai. They remain unpublished.
On pure metaphysics, one of my main interests, I have taught a few courses
on such significant themes as causality and universals. An example of my
contemplations on this subject emerges in the essay on Sense and Essence
of Secularism, in which I have argued that secularism has an affinity
with nominalism, that is, the philosophy that denies the existence of the
universals.
I believe that secularism is a subtle notion that can not be summarized
in the principle of the separation of the church and state. It has deeper
philosophical implications. I have even discovered that the conflict between
the mystics and Greek-influenced peripatetic philosophers in the Islamic
world may have originated in this debate.
In my early years of return to Iran I published Masked Dogmatism,
and The World We Live a compilation of a few articles, including
a long essay on the position of the social sciences. I also completed a
number of translations. One of my favorite works in this area is my translation
of Arthur Burts' Metaphysical Foundations of Modern Science. It
is a neoclassical work written in 1930s, but it is still accorded great
significance in the philosophy and history of science. It contains a profound,
eloquent, and readable analysis of the subject matter. I have added a comprehensive
introduction to the book, updating it as much as possible.
I translated and published another volume on the philosophy of natural
sciences and two essays on the philosophy of social sciences, whose authors
are Alan Rayan and Danniel Little. Along with these, I published another
compilation of articles whose main contribution was the thesis of the theoretical
contraction and expansion of Shari'a.
Recently I have had the good fortune to deliver a series of weekly lessons
in a couple of the mosques over a period of six years. This was an auspicious
opportunity, and I thank God for it. During these sessions, whose main
audience were students, I discussed religious matters of the first order
-- for example, the addresses entitled "The Secret of the Success
of the Prophets" and "An Exegesis of Ali's Address to the Virtuous
from the Nahjolbalagheh" which has been published and has gone
through several editions. I also gave a series of talks on "The Last
Words of the Commander of the Faithful Ali to His Son Imam Hassan."
This will soon be published and will appear in four volumes, two of which
are already out.
Occasionally, I have spoken about issues relating to religious occasions
such a the birthday of the Prophet Mohammad or one of the Shiite Imams.
Some of these have recently appeared in the book form under the title Story
of Servitude and Love. My last work on political philosophy, Tolerance
and Governance, is a two-volume edition that is still under review
in the Ministry of Guidance. I hope that it will see the light of the day
after requisite editorial changes and necessary compromises.
Unfortunately, this book, because of the nature of the issues it addresses
has encountered difficulties in the censor's office. The censors have demanded
not only that we eliminate some of the articles but also that we submit
the manuscript to a critic of their choice to append his critical remarks.
This is an unpalatable and outrageously intolerable condition but we may
have to submit to it.
My articles on rouhaniat (the clergy) were supposed to be published
in that book. This book was cleared for publication by the ministry of
Islamic Guidance only after a "critique" by a well-known religious
Fascist was imposed on the publisher as an appendix to the book. These
are two articles that have created great uproar, as you know. They were
originally published in Kiyan magazine.
Sadri: I believe one of them is published in this volume. Is
it not entitled "The Expectations of the Hozeh from the University"?
Soroush: No, that is a different article. The articles that actually
created the uproar were "Gallantry and the Clergy" and "The
Roof of Livelihood on the Pillar of Religion." The article that is
part of the present book was the text of a lecture delivered and published
before those two. That too provoked opposition, criticism, and acrimony
but not as much as the latter ones. I wrote these articles because I realized
that there was a gap in my writings concerning the role of the carriers
and bearers of religion -- the rouhaniat or the clergy.
That is why in the first of these two articles, I have stated that the
clergy are not defined by their erudition or their virtue but by their
dependency on religion for their livelihood. This thesis did not sit well
with the clergy and was vigorously attacked. Let me add that after I published
those articles on contraction and expansion in Keyhan Farhangi a
Fascistic group took over some cultural institutions, including certain
newspapers, and put an end to that journal.
But fortunately some of the managers of that journal launched another
one: Kiyan where I continued to publish my work, even some of my
poetry. This periodical has met with critical acclaim and wide readership.
This venue allowed me to keep up my relationship with a vast stratum of
students and intellectuals throughout Iran. Their letters, phone calls,
and comments are a source of great delight for me.
I also have had the good fortune to teach a group of seminary students
in Qum for a period of two years. My lectures there dealt mainly with modern
theology and philosophy of religion. I am delighted that these lectures
are still popular, although I no longer have the opportunity, and to put
it bluntly, the permission to teach in Qum. This gate, like many others
like it, has been closed to me.
However, the discussion of philosophy of religion has blossomed in the
Qum seminary, and right now two or three journals are published in this
area whose managers and contributors are my former students. They would
not mention my name and they are not allowed to publish my works, but they
pursue my ideas on the philosophy of religion, which has found many enthusiasts.
A number of students have been sent from Qum to the universities around
the world to study in these areas.
In any event, this issue has caught the attention of the students, even
professors of the Qum seminary. I find this a positive development and
hope it will continue.
Sadri: Thank you for this comprehensive account. You are aware
of the attempts to place you in the context of sociopolitical developments
of the Islamic world. Some have even gone so far as calling you the "Luther
of Islam." The idea of differentiation of spheres of life -- science,
religion, politics, and so on -- that is the hallmark of your thought may
be interpreted as a sign of a colossal change in the Islamic world after
a hundred years of grappling with modernity.
I mean, is it fair to say that your thought grasps, in theory, what
the Islamic world in general and the Iranian people in particular have
experienced in the last century or so? I am invoking Hegel's allegory of
the "Owl of Minerva" where ideas do not precede but follow the
unfolding of the reality they describe.
Let me ask you, then, a two-pronged question: How do you assess the
impact of the Islamic revivalism in general, and the Islamic Revolution
of Iran in particular, on your thought; and what affinities do you perceive
between your philosophy and the ideas of other Islamic reformists and revivalists?
Soroush: I may not be the best person to comment on all aspects
of this question, but I will state a couple of points that occur to me
and leave the judgment to you. First, I have always been interested in
theoretical issues. I find them engaging and rewarding.
However, after the Islamic Revolution, I became interested practical
matters as well. Because I clearly realized that those who led our revolution
had not thought beyond the downfall of the tyrannical regime of the Shah.
Thus they had no appreciation of such issues as global economy, modernity,
information-driven administration, and so on. They sincerely believed that
if only the rulers were just and well-meaning, society would follow its
"natural" course.
In the meantime, grandiose claims had been launched without a realistic
method of achieving them. We had little more than enticing slogans to offer.
The founders and rulers of the revolution were, and still are, mostly professional
orators. To many of them success means delivering an impressive sermon,
attending an elaborate ceremony, and so on. Needless to say, this does
not add much to substantive progress. Thus it was that I noticed the need
not only for theoretical ground work but also for practical problem-solving.
The second point is that I always follow a single motto. It is rather
easy to state but hard to practice. I believe that truths everywhere are
compatible; no truth clashes with any other truth. They are all the inhabitants
of the same house and stars of the same constellation. One truth in one
corner of the world has to be harmonious and compatible with all truths
elsewhere, or else it is not a truth. That is why I have never tired of
my search for truth in other arenas of intellect and opinion.
This truthfulness of the world is a blessing indeed, because it instigates
constant search and engenders a healthy pluralism. Constantly prompted
to wonder whether one's truth is a complete and comprehensive truth, one
scrutinizes it thoroughly and compares it with other kinds of truth, for
the condition of a principle's truthfulness is its harmony with other truths.
Thus, in my search for the truth, I became oblivious to whether an idea
originated in the East or West, or whether it had ancient or modern origins.
Obviously, we don't possess all of the truths, and we need other places
and people to help unfold different aspects of it.
The Islamic Revolution created the impulse in my mind to try and gather
others' truths and our truths under the same umbrella and to solve the
theoretical and practical problems we were and still are confronting. My
thesis on contraction and expansion indicated that for religious texts,
we need other kinds of knowledge if our understanding is not to stagnate
... CONTINUED
HERE
- Introduction
- Part
one
- Part
two
- Part
three
- Part
four
- Part
five
- Part
six
Interviewer
Mahmoud Sadri is an associate professor
of sociology at Texas Women's University. He has a doctorate in sociology
from New York's New School for Social Research. For more information see
his page at the Texas
Women's University. He is the coauthor, with Aruthur Stinchcombe, of an
article in "Durkheim's Division of Labor: 1893-1993" Presses
Universitaires de France, 1993. To top
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