Bismika Alllahuma

REVUE de LIVRE par prof. Y. Dutton, conférencier dans le département des études islamiques, université d'Edimbourg, prise du journal des études islamiques, édition du mai 2000. (Centre d'Oxford pour des études islamiques, 2000)

Les origines de Coran : Essais classiques sur le livre saint de l'Islam
Édité par IBN WARRAQ. Amherst, NY : Livres de Prometheus. 1998.
Pp. 411. Prix HB $32.95. 1-57392-198-X.

Ce livre, édité par la personnalité plutôt nébuleuse de « Ibn Warraq » (ni son nom et prénoms ni son affiliation institutionnelle, le cas échéant, ne sont n'importe où donnés), se compose de treize essais précédemment édités sur l'histoire et la nature le texte anic de Qur', douze d'entre eux datant du demi-siècle entre 1890 et 1940 et seulement treizième dater aussi de récemment que 1985. Le livre est divisé en quatre parts. La partie une contient une introduction par bourse la « révisionniste » et occidentale de rédacteur qui récapitule récent, la plupart du temps sur les origines de l'Islam et sa tradition écrite, et également un essai général, décrit dans le texte de présentation plutôt avec grandiose et, un doit indiquer, plutôt nonsensically comme « première étude véritablement scientifique du Qur' ; par Theodor Noldeke. Partie deux, « la collection et les variantes de Coran ; se compose des essais par Leone Caetani, Alphonse Mingana (deux), Arthur Jeffrey (quatre) et David Margoliouth, sur le thème général de la façon dont le texte actuel est venu pour être établi. Partie trois, « les sources de Coran » ; présents trois longs essais par Abraham Geiger, W. Sources de rue Clair-Tisdall et de Charles Torrey, qui explorent le juif supposé, chrétien, et de Zoroastrian du Qur'. Partie quatre, « critiques textuelles modernes de Coran » ; se compose d'un essai simple par Andrew Rippin, le seul disciple contemporain représenté dans la collection, qui présente les méthodologies de John Wansbrough et son utilisation de l'analyse littéraire de remettre en cause dater musulman standard des textes islamiques les plus tôt.

Le problème avec cette collection est son orientation. Le rédacteur prétend être concerné seulement par « ces vérités qui sont rapportées par un processus d'enquête raisonnable, par l'examen scientifique » (9), pour réaliser en apparence, en mots d'Arthur Jeffrey, « une recherche critique sur le texte du Qu' ont couru » (9). However, what we see exhibited by the choice of essays is in fact quite different. Ibn Warraq himself rejects most, if not all, Muslim scholarship on the issue, while at the same time seeming to accept without question anything produced by the “revisionist” wing of modern Western scholarship, neither of which positions would seem tenable for one seeking to produce by “rational enquiry”. Moreover, he seems to have ignored even that amount of criticism of the “revisionist” position that exists in his own chosen essays: thus, for example, in his Introduction he praises the work of Crone and Cook, whose book Hagarism he describes as “fascinating” (33) and “intellectually exhilarating” (29), without seeming to be aware of Rippin’s caveat elsewhere in the collection that “although they (Crone and Cook) successfully draw attention to the problems involved in the study of Islam, they have not been able to get beyond the limitations in the sources, for they are all of questionable historical authenticity and, more importantly, all are treatises based in polemic” (352). In other words, the non-Islamic sources are no more free from potential bias than the Muslim ones. Indeed, the words that best seem to describe Ibn Warraq’s attitude are those that he quotes from Rippin, who refers to those who approach Islam “with less than academic candour” (10), and Crone, who warns us that “the entire tradition is tendentious; which, although intended to refer to Muslim historiography, applies as much, if not more so, to modern revisionist scholarship.

But not only is Ibn Warraq’s own position “based on polemic” and an uncritical acceptance of certain sources (in this case, modern revisionist scholarship), but so too are the highly “Christianised” critiques - or attempts at critique - of, for example, Mingana and St Clair-Tisdall, for whom nothing is ultimately acceptable unless it accords with Christian scripture (e.g. 79, 235, 259), and for whom, it seems, “the opinions of Arab authors?are too worthless to be quoted” (95). Similar assumptions of the primacy of Judaism and/or Christianity also seem to underlie many if not most of the other essays in the book. However, what in fact for the majority of these essays show is not a Jewish, Christian, or even Zoroastrian, source for some Qur’anic narrative or narratives (one is reminded of how the unbelievers in the Qur’anic narrative always reject the Qur’an as “tales of the ancients”), but rather the existence of parallels: any conclusions about direct borrowing in a derivatory sense are, and can only remain, speculation.

Nevertheless, there is some benefit to be gained from this book. This reviewer in particular found the essays by Jeffrey and Margoliouth on the variants of the Qu’ran (Chapter 6 and 10 respectively) to be of more than passing interest in that they collect together many useful references and suggest many lines for future research. But otherwise, this book is lacking in interest for the serious scholar of “the origins of the Koran”; for the simple reason that it seems to miss, or bypass, the essential issue of the nature of revelation itself and the claims made about it. Put simply, either the Prophet was telling the truth or he wasn’t. Again and again the Qur’an emphasises that this is not the speech of a mere human but rather “a sending down from the Lord of all the worlds”. Now, either the Prophet was correct in his accepting and saying this or he was not; and if he was not, then either he was inadvertently mistaken or he was an outright impostor. To countenance his being an impostor does not, quite frankly, tally with everything we know of the excellence of his human behaviour, nor does it tally with the love that others had for him and the spirit of self-sacrifice expressed so clearly by all who took his path. Nor can we accept that he was mistaken: it is recorded that when he first experienced the phenomenon of revelation, he was afraid that he might be going mad. His wife, Khadija, however, had the decisive argument on that point: it did not make sense that someone who so selflessly looked after the sick and the poor, helped those in need, and treated his guests and neighbours well-in short, someone who was always so outgoing and helpful to others-should be mad. Madness and altruism do not go together. Rather, it is outward social action that indicates a deep sanity in the human being.

Either one accepts this argument of Khadija, along with the testimony of tradition to the Prophet’s honesty and trustworthiness both before and after the onset of his revelationary experiences, bolstered by the evidence of the unconditional love that he engendered in those around him-which is hardly the effect of a liar and a cheat-or one does not. As for his being mistaken, either one rejects the testimony on his own tongue that the Qu’ran was revealed “on his heart” and was then expressed outwardly by his own speech but was nevertheless the “sending down of the Lord of all the worlds” and not of his own volition, or one does not. And either one accepts Khadija’s argument that someone with such praiseworthy outward behaviour-the basic mark of sanity-could not be the object of demonic possession but rather was in full possession of his faculties, or one does not.

If one takes the Muslim position and accepts these arguments-or rather we should say positions, since there is no argument about these points but rather a recognition and acceptance of them-then the nature of revelation is defined by what actually happened, rather than by any expectations people might have about what they think should have happened. One can impose no prior expectations on this material: rather, the nature of the revelation is at it was, variants and all. And with respect to this latter point, we should remember that Muslim scholars have never been embarrassed by the presence of variants, not even the Shadhdh, or non-standard ones: rather, they have accepted their existence, and the fact that people used them at the time they did, while at the same recognising that there was a need to simplify and systematise matters for latter generations to prevent an unacceptable proliferation, thus leading first to “Uthman’s decision to restrict the written form of the Qur’an so that, as the reports put it, “the community would not become divided about their scripture as had the Jews and Christians”, and, secondly, to the subsequent systematisation of the various possibilities into the accepted systems of the Seven, Ten, or even Fourteen, Readers.

From this perspective, the contents of the present book seem little more than a polemical attempt to debunk the Qur’an and, by extension, Islam. As St Clair-Tisdall put it in his essay on the supposed Jewish, Christian and Zoroastrian sources of the Qur’an: “If we can trace the teaching of the Koran, or any part of it, to an earthly source, or to human systems existing previous to the Prophet’s age, then Islam at once falls to the ground” (232; cf.227, where William Muir, in his Introduction to the same piece, repeats the same claim). The rest of the book is not, as we have suggested above, in a very different mode.

Rather, it seems to me that one has to accept a reality of revelation, experienced and mediated not only by the Prophet Muhammad but also by many, many Prophets and Messengers before him. From this perspective, one would indeed expect a great deal of similarity in content between previous divinely inspired messages. But it remains true that, of these messages, that which we know today as the Qu’ran is our best and most complete example and therefore the best starting point for anyone who wants to better understand this phenomenon.