1 Introduction

Studying the influence of Aristotle’s political philosophy on Medieval Arab philosophers presents three major challenges.¹ Firstly, it is dependent on the interpretation of Aristotle’s texts, and of how his doctrine may have evolved in relation to that of Plato. Even today, there is considerable disagreement amongst specialists of Aristotle’s works. For example, phronēsis—one of the most crucial notions of Aristotelian thought—is considered by some to be an elevated form of knowledge based on right reason that serves as a guide for practical intellect, while others believe that the standard of practical wisdom is less epistemological than it is anthropological in nature, with the phronimos himself acting in a contingent, indeterminate universe that is the immanent incarnation of this virtue.² These interpretations may also differ according to context. In the Middle Ages, following the 13th-century translation of Aristotle’s Politics by William of Moerbeke, the main discussions revolved around the mixed constitution. But in the 20th century, in the wake of the human disasters that seemed to be an effect of arrogant and senseless technological modernity, the return to Aristotelian phronēsis allowed us to think of practical reason as wisdom and to push for harmony between correct desire, the sort of goods a human being can pursue, and the identification between happiness (eudaimonia) and the excellent activity of the rational soul.³

The second obstacle in studying the influence of Aristotle’s political ideas on Arab philosophers concerns their understanding of the actual identity of Aristotle. Certain apocryphal texts, such as the Theology, were attributed to him and used in the writings of numerous authors, even though in this case it was actually a compilation of Plotinus’ Enneads IV–VI.⁴ Already distorted by having attributed to him a number of doctrines that he perhaps would have renounced, the Aristotle who reached the Arabs as early as the 9th century was further transfigured by centuries of commentaries on his works by both the Peripatetics and Neoplatonists of Athens and Alexandria.⁵ Such interventions, which sometimes became consensus doctrines or undisputed postulates within the various schools of thought, undoubtedly made their mark on the manner in which the Arab philosophers approached Aristotle. Even Averroes (1126–1198)—who aimed to revise the Commentators’ opinions formed around the work of the Stagirite and instead to explain Aristotle through Aristotle, in order to find overall coherence among his texts as well as the significance of his scientific work—had to give way to the influences of Greek commentators, of Arab Peripatetics or even of those, such as Avicenna, who, in his eyes, sought to alter the ‘true’ Aristotle.

Finally, at a strictly political level, we know that Aristotle’s Politics had a decisive impact on the Latin context from its translation in the 13th century and its arrival, together with the texts of the Arab philosophers, in the intellectual centers of Medieval Europe. It was thus that it developed as the origin of the major works of Giles of Rome, Bartholomew of Lucca and Marsilius of Padua, whereas the text had never been translated into Arabic in the Middle Ages, and played no role in the philosophical careers of al-Kindī (801–873), al-Fārābī (870–950), Miskawayh (932–1030), Avicenna (980–1037), Avempace (d. 1138) or Averroes. As such, can we continue to speak of how these Arab philosophers were influenced by Aristotle’s political philosophy?

These various factors (firstly, the interpretation of Aristotle’s political philosophy in comparison, notably, with that of Plato; secondly, the acknowledgement of the Arabs’ interest in these two philosophers’ texts in a philosophical context (i.e Neoplatonism) that may have led to opposition to certain aspects of or, indeed, total rejection of Aristotle’s philosophy; and, finally, the total absence of any text copy of Politics in the intellectual centers of the eastern Islamic world and Andalusia) have allowed, ever since the pioneering works of Leo Strauss and Muhsin Mahdi on Arab political philosophy, particularly al-Fārābī, for the establishment of a bias towards the Platonism of the falāsifa.⁶ As such, political science—usually approached as an effect of metaphysics by al-Fārābī—becomes, through the reversal of reading perspectives practiced by Leo Strauss, the field that gave birth to metaphysics and founded theology.⁷ A historical accident (the absence of a translation of Politics) becomes the sign of a deliberate refusal to use this text, and of a preference for Plato’s Laws as a means of understanding the field of political philosophy. Even amongst authors such as Averroes, who undoubtedly adhered to Aristotle’s thinking, some have found signs of veiled Platonism in his manner of interpreting particular points, departing from Aristotle or working to make the overall approach of his texts more coherent.⁸ Deemed too dangerous for Islamic religious culture due to his excessive trust in the powers of human reason, Aristotle, as a political thinker, had to be relegated to second place to make way for Plato, who taught that people should make an effort to attain wisdom, but that this wisdom comes as a result of teaching the prophetic revelations. It can therefore only be accessed by man if he submits himself to God. Wisdom, the object of human desire, can only be obtained through divine assistance. For reasons unexplained, Aristotle and his Politics were perceived as compatible with Christianity, whereas in the case of Islam, there was a need for texts like the Republic and the Laws to perfectly articulate prophecy and political legislation. Analysis based on a Straussian reading links unsettled postulates as if they were indisputable truths, asserting that Aristotle had no political influence on the Arab philosophers, that he did not develop a philosophy of law and that his teaching was incompatible with the revealed religions. In addition to these postulates, on the one hand there are personal interpretations of religions as if they were fixed entities deprived of all historicity and, on the other hand, a method of reading the works of a given author who builds a text as the center from which other books are analyzed and understood. This central text must contain the author’s last word, with his ultimate doctrinal position or secret intellectual vision (camouflaged through the art of his esoteric writing) being turned into the instrument of tension resolution; the tool to resolve the discrepancies or justify the contradictions within the work.⁹

In response to these readings, other approaches have sought to adhere to ‘positivist’ principles, trusting only what the history of the texts’ transmission has taught us about their availability and circulation within philosophical circles. However, from this point of view, the political texts read by the Arabs, whether written by Plato or Aristotle, probably came from summaries or paraphrasing by Galen (in the case of the Republic) or Porphyry (in the case of the Nicomachean Ethics). The true Greek masters were not accessible due to these historical contingencies, and their ideas ended up being explored only through a range of distorted sources, whether Hellenistic, Neoplatonic or otherwise. In these approaches, when a significant gap is discovered between the texts of al-Fārābī or Averroes and those of the Greek masters, it is justified by the presence of an incomplete corpus, and as long as original points are found, it is assumed that they were taken from an anonymous source or a Greek commentator, with original text surviving only in Arabic.¹⁰ Arabic authors thus reflect either a failure of interpretation (due to the unavailability of the genuine texts) or the wonderful discovery of a known or anonymous Greek thinker, whose genius can be contemplated in the surviving Arabic translation of his work. In both cases, the center of the approach and starting point for analysis is not the Arab political philosophy but the philosophy of the Greek predecessors.

Through an interpretative approach that remains conscious of these various difficulties, this paper aims to identify the major dimensions of this influence, while also taking into account the fact that such influence may come from texts that are not necessarily political in nature. Similarly, addressing the question of influence does not entail compiling an inventory of references to ‘political Aristotle’ by various authors, nor does it involve ignoring the originality of an approach in works by al-Fārābī or Averroes in order to show, by any means, that they were faithful transmitters of the Stagirite’s ideas in the Medieval Arab context. Such an approach would overlook the interactions between different ideas and disregard the forms of intelligence or intellectual daring that may help reveal an aspect that is poorly explained in Aristotle’s texts, or even show how one can, by way of defending one’s theoretical positions, arrive at conclusions that render one’s starting positions unrecognizable.

2 Aristotle’s Political Corpus in Arabic

If we set aside the apocryphal texts addressed at the end of this article, only Aristotle’s Politics¹¹ is absent from the ensemble of the Aristotelian corpus that fuelled the political reflections of Arab philosophers. However, this ‘ensemble’ can be narrowed down to one text, namely the Nicomachean Ethics. Aristotle’s Politics which had a significant influence on the Latin world from the late thirteenth century, was not translated into Arabic with the rest of Aristotle’s works, and was not available to Arab thinkers at that time. Certain writers cite the text and intimate that it did indeed exist, while others explicitly state that it was not at their disposal and therefore not available in Arabic. Of this second category, Averroes is the most unequivocal. In the opening pages of his Commentary on Plato’s Republic, he states that since he cannot procure Aristotle’s book which contains the second part of the science (the first being the Nicomachean Ethics), he chose instead to explore the content of Plato’s Republic.¹² As for writers that cited Politics and intimated that it was in their possession, it is important to note that these citations are based on bibliographical works or content descriptions in various commentaries of the Stagirite’s works. This can be seen in the section where al-Kindī lists Aristotle’s works, and describes the aim Aristotle assigned to each philosophical study. In his work entitled On the Quantity of Aristotle’s Books, al-Kindī mentions Politics, comprised of eight books, which could suggest that such a book did in fact exist. Nonetheless, al-Kindī notes that its content, like certain books, is identical to that of the Nicomachean Ethics. This reveals that it was instead the Eudemian Ethics, a text that features these characteristics.

The aim of Aristotle’s second book on ethics and politics entitled Politika, meaning “civil”, dedicated to one of his friends, is similar to the aims of his first book [i.e the Nicomachean Ethics]. In these pages, he addresses civil politics in more detail, yet certain chapters are identical to those of the first book.¹³

Other authors mention the Book of Politics or the Book on the Government of Cities by Aristotle, yet they are referring to either Secretum secretorum, also known as Of Politics, or to one of Aristotle’s treatises to Alexander the Great On the Government of Cities. This is the case for the Andalusian science historian Ṣāʿid al-Andalusī (1029–1070). In a list of Aristotle’s works, he cites treatises on cities, the administration of the household and ethics.¹⁴ Similarly, in his Book of Caution and Revision, al-Masʿūdī (d. 956) notes that Aristotle’s political philosophy is featured in his book The Political Regime (al-Siyāsa al-madaniyya). This could be construed to be Aristotle’s Politics, yet the description of the text’s contents and main ideas show that al-Masʿūdī briefly summarizes ideas set out in al-Fārābī’s work of the same name.¹⁵ Caution should then be exercised when it comes to works in Arabic credited to Aristotle’s Politics.

Turning now to political philosophers with an in-depth knowledge of the Aristotelian corpus, al-Fārābī’s Book of Letters refers to a “book by Aristotle on political science”, which immediately brings Politics to mind.¹⁶ However, this interpretation adopted by Shlomo Pines to support the general idea of the existence of at least the first book—and perhaps the first two books of Politics—was incorrect. In actual fact, the book al-Fārābī is referring to in this passage is none other than the Nicomachean Ethics. The cited text addresses the theory of relatives and their relation to categories, a subject that Aristotle does not cover at the beginning of Politics.¹⁷ The passage in Politics (I, 3, 1253b 21–23) that Shlomo Pines compares to al-Fārābī’s text, discusses the nature of slavery: is it just because is determined by nature, or is it unjust because it is founded on force? Similarly, the text by Miskawayh that Shlomo Pines used to prove the existence of two books of Aristotle’s Politics in Arabic is more likely to refer to one of the Letters’ principal pieces Aristotle sent to Alexander. According to the manuscripts, this text is called, Of Politics (al-Siyāsa), The Politics of Cities (Siyāsat al-mudun) or General politics (al-Siyāsa al-ʿāmmiyya). The word siyāsa is interchangeable with tadbīr (rule, government, management, direction), making it highly possible that the work Miskawayh cited (Tadbīr al-mudun, On the Government of Cities) refers to this book.¹⁸ The fact that he states that the text contains two books (maqālatān) confirms this hypothesis, since the treatise attributed to Aristotle does indeed have two parts in certain manuscripts: “The qualities of the king” (“Fī ṣifāt al-malik”) and “The Reform of the cities” (“Fī iṣlāḥ al-mudun”).

Generally speaking, when analyzing the Aristotelian corpus mentioned by Islamic philosophers and its passages cited in their works, it can be useful to distinguish three levels. The first one pertains to the citation of works and their content that may be sourced from bibliographical catalogues and secondary works that listed a given volume. Aristotle’s Politics is most often cited in this way, which indicates that there was no copy in Arabic. Even al-Fārābī’s reference to this book in the Enumeration of the Sciences should be treated as a simple second-hand quote.¹⁹ If the author truly had the Politics at his disposal, he would have drafted a number of compendiums on the subject. Furthermore, many questions would have arisen given the highly intellectual subject matter of the topics Aristotle addressed, and the rigour with which he conducted his research. Aristotle’s Politics includes subjects such as the legitimacy of slavery, his critique of Plato’s theory of the community of women and children and the community of property, the issue of revolt and the upheavals that affect the cities, the analysis of constitutions from a historical point of view and also from a judicial point of view. If Arab philosophers had had knowledge of these ideas, it would have had a major impact on their approach to this branch of philosophy.

The second level relates to citation of certain textual fragments, whether it be developments of varying significance attributed to the texts of commentators including Alexander of Aphrodisias, Porphyry, Simplicius, John Philoponus and Nicolaus of Damascus, or maxims compiled in anthologies that attracted a wide audience in the East from the 9th to 12th centuries.²⁰ Admittedly, most of these maxims and aphorisms had no connection to the authentic texts of Aristotle. The image some of these writings evoke of the Stagirite can be surprising: of a neo-platonic philosopher yearning to purify his soul, a mystic eager to rid himself of his body’s influence, or an ascetic that holds this lowly world in contempt and thinks of nothing but the afterlife. However, other passages do indeed reflect biographical aspects of Aristotle’s authentic ideas. In this respect, the text by pseudo-al-ʿĀmirī is even more exemplary as it is the only work to have recorded a few lines which are equivalent, in terms of ideas, to Book I of Aristotle’s Politics.²¹ But these passages do not reflect Aristotle’s text verbatim, meaning that it is a secondary citation by Greek commentators of Aristotle, or Alexandrian authors. The Aristotelian work from which pseudo-al-ʿĀmirī sourced the moral and political aphorisms therefore remains the Nicomachean Ethics. The numerous citations taken from this work prove that this reference was available at the time al-Saʿāda wa l-isʿād was written, probably in the second half of the 10th century.

The third level concerns Aristotle’s authentic texts, the contents of which are strictly political. Here we are forced to restrict ourselves to one sole text, Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics. This text had by far the most influence on Arab philosophers’ studies of not only politics, but philosophy in general.²² It played a pivotal role in this crucial moment for scientific and philosophical thought in the 10th and 11th centuries, as manifested by its central position in the works of young al-Fārābī, which combine the search for happiness and perfection with the mastery of the art of logic.²³ The short treatise of al-Fārābī, al-Tanbibīh ʿalā taḥṣīl al-Saʿāda, illustrates this influence of Aristotelian thinking in the first two books of Nicomachean Ethics on happiness and perfection. This is the starting point of the young al-Fārābī, known above all as a logician, in his overall philosophical endeavour.²⁴ Miskawayh follows the same path in Tartīb al-Saʿādāt (The Order of Happiness) and devotes the first pages to a study inspired by the first two books of the Nicomachean Ethics, leading to a lengthy development of Aristotle’s philosophy supported by a text by Paul the Persian. Here, it should be noted that he follows al-Fārābī’s plan by linking research on happiness (eudaimonia) to scientific knowledge, particularly the work of Aristotle, and the way in which he perfected the tools of the logical arts.²⁵ These two examples illustrate that Aristotle’s work was the basis for both authors’ philosophical works, since they will devote most of their work to ethical and political and questions, relating them to their psychologies, cosmologies and metaphysics. The same influence can be identified in the work of Avempace.²⁶ In the Governance of the Solitary, he conveys an original approach based on the idea that a philosopher must attain the perfection described by Aristotle, but in absence of an ideal political environment and a city willing to carry out this aim, must take this charge upon himself. Avempace then carried out exhaustive research on the quest for individual excellence in Farewell Letter, drawings on Aristotle’s descriptions of the highest virtue of a man in Book X of the Nicomachean Ethics in his central thesis.²⁷

3 Practical Philosophy

The different levels of Aristotelian corpus found in the writing of Arab philosophers in the Medieval era come to light in how they present the branch of practical philosophy. Accordingly, there is generally a tripartition between ethics or self-government, economics or the administration of the household, and politics or the government of the city based on Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics, Economics and Politics. This tripartition inspired by Aristotle was preserved in the most vivacious philosophical tradition Islam immediately encountered in different cities in which it became established, namely the currents of Alexandrian Neoplatonism.²⁸ Aristotle’s work Economics, like Politics, was not available in Arabic. This explains its replacement with a text by Bryson, a 1st century Neopythagorean who wrote a small treatise on the administration of the household (oikonomia/tadbīr al-manzil), practically the only reference on the subject.²⁹

This tripartition, which can be traced back to Aristotle, would be systematized in philosophical encyclopaedias and scientific catalogues, especially in the post-Avicennian era. The first significant treatises combining all three parts of practical philosophy only came to light at the end of the classical era. Paradoxically, the inclusion of ethics, economics and politics in one volume increased the division between the three fields on an epistemological level. It is important to note that in philosophical writings in the post-Avicennian era, these three fields took on a scholastic nuance insisting on the specific nature of each branch as an individual science. Al-Ṭūsī’s Nasirean Ethics, a work written in Persian and then translated into Arabic in the 14th century by al-Ǧurǧānī, illustrates this position. In the introduction of al-Ṭūsī’s work, one of Avicenna’s most famous commentators, he explains that he had been commissioned by a prince to translate Miskawayh’s Refinement of Character. He deemed it necessary to instead write a book on practical philosophy as a whole, choosing to summarize Miskawayh’s work and adding two parts on ‘household wisdom’ and ‘civil wisdom’. According to this approach, ethics relates to an individual, whereas the two other sciences pertain to the participation of several individuals in community affairs, that of the household and the city.

Practical Philosophy, says al-Ṭūsī, is the acknowledgement of benefits in voluntary movements and disciplined acts on the part of the human species, in a way that conduces to the ordering of the states of man’s life here and hereafter, necessitating arrival at that perfection towards which he is directed. It likewise is divided into two: that which refers to each soul individually, and that which concerns a community in association. The second division is itself subdivided: that which refers to a community associated within a dwelling or home, on the one hand; on the other, that which concerns a community associated within a city, a province, or even a region or a realm. Thus, Practical Philosophy too has three divisions: the first is called Ethics, the second Economics, and the third Politics.³⁰

This approach to practical philosophy shows that each discipline is autonomous, to a certain extent, and that the distinction between them is made through adding or subtracting the number of individuals involved in the exercise of governance in each sphere. According to this concept, ethics has no part to play in the political domain, nor any purpose that corresponds to the entire community as a whole. Although this was not originally the authors’ intention, we note that the prevailing scholarly approach at the end of the classical age of Islam supported the idea that practical philosophy was based on the autonomy of each branch as part of the whole. They were inclined to create divisions and subdivisions and identify different categories that made up the scientific disciplines.³¹ Avicenna appears to be the source of this approach to practical philosophy. In the Eastern Philosophy, he notes that ethics “teaches how the human individual should behave for himself and for the states that concern him, so that he will be happy in both the here below and in the hereafter”.³² In contrast to the other branches of practical philosophy, ethics is individual (ḫāṣṣ) and not shared. The social and political dimension which reveals human aspects of association (mušārakāt, Koinoniai) concerns only the household or city government. Avicennian literature, which included detailed descriptions of the three branches, and aiming to separate ethics as a discipline applicable only to the individual, was used as a key reference by the intellectual tradition in philosophical studies. This paradoxically weakened practical science overall and distanced it from the teachings of Aristotle that emphasized ethics as a political book, as we saw earlier with al-Fārābī who named it the Book on the Government of Cities. In parallel, from Avicenna onwards, prophetic revelation and the religious sciences with the overarching discipline of Islamic law (fiqh) were assigned the same aims previously entrusted to practical philosophy. By relying on legal scholars and religious moralists, the discourse on education of the individual and the government of the State seems to break away from philosophy, despite the appearance of in-depth research, precision and technical prowess in delineating the divisions and subdivisions in the different domains of practical wisdom.³³

This perspective is not shared by all Arab philosophers. Some insist on the indivisibility of practical philosophy, while still precisely listing its individual parts. This point can be made clear by analyzing the role of the household governance as part of the whole, on the one hand, and examining the link between ethics and politics, on the other.

When compared to Avicenna’s texts, analyzed above, the divergence of two prevalent ideas comes to light. The first is the autonomy of each science, and the second deals with the subordination of the specific aims assigned to each sphere of the government of self and the administration of the household to the overall aims of the city. Furthermore, unlike al-Fārābī, Avicenna stresses the need to separate each type of government in the Eastern Philosophy, to the point of advising not to let the ruler of a city take care of the government of the houses. This approach thus divides the two parts, the only change being that the prophetic revelation has the power to legislate on all aspects of practical life and may determine the purpose of each sphere.³⁶

In addition to the epistemological phase that made it possible to identify the role of the different parts of practical philosophy by drawing on analogies found in biology, we note that the reflections on the government of the household as a ‘science’ disappears altogether in the principal works of al-Fārābī. This can be seen in The Political Regime, where he clearly stipulates that perfection and happiness can only be achieved by moving from the lower forms of association such as the family or the village to the superior form which is the city.

Human beings are [one] of the species that cannot complete their necessary affairs nor gain their most excellent state except by coming together as many associations in a single dwelling-place. Some human associations are large, some medium, and some small. The large association is an association of many nations coming together and helping one another. The medium is the nation. And the small are those the city embraces. These three are the perfect associations.

Thus, the city is the first in the rankings of perfections. Associations in villages, quarters, streets, and houses are defective associations. Of these, one is very defective, namely, the household association. It is part of the association in the street, and the association in the street is part of the association in the quarter. And the latter association is part of the civil association. The associations in quarters and the associations in villages are both for the sake of the city. However, the difference between them is that quarters are parts of the city, while villages serve the city. The civil association is part of the nation, and the nation is divided into cities. The absolute perfect human association is divided into nations.³⁷

The emphasis given to the importance of any discourse on the government of the household makes it clear that al-Fārābī is a proponent of Aristotelian principles, according to which man is a political animal by nature and the character of a citizen can only be attained in the city environment, i.e. through participation in the common purpose of the city or overarching structure, as we shall see below.

To conclude this section on the role of the administration of the household and the relationship it maintains with ethics and politics, it is important to note that two Andalusian philosophers, Avempace and Averroes would address this question and develop a highly critical stance on the discourse of household governance.

Avempace raises this in The Governance of the Solitary, in which he discusses how an individual must do everything to attain the supreme goal of man in an imperfect political environment, regardless of whether or not the excellent city is yet a reality. Following a philological and philosophical explanation of the concept of tadbīr (government, management, conduct, care), the cornerstone of Arab political philosophy, he attempts to restrict the domain of the individual and the city by rejecting the idea of a tadbīr for the household alone.

[…] The perfection of the household is not something desired for its own sake, but only for the sake of rendering perfect either the city or the natural end of man, and the treatment of the latter clearly forms part of man’s governance of himself [that is, ethics]. In any case, the household is either a part of the city and its treatment forms part of the treatment of the city, or a preparation for another end and its treatment forms part of the treatment of that end. This explains why the treatment of the household in the popular manner is pointless and does not constitute a science.³⁸

Avempace’s critique of the science of the organization of the household implies that the techniques of civil government cannot be reduced to those at work in the organization of the household, and that a city cannot be considered as such. In other words, the art of managing a city cannot be likened to managing a household. Despite Plato’s influence on these various developments, the fact remains that Avempace begins with the problem of government that seeks to identify the original relationship, enshrined in Aristotle’s political philosophy, between the individual and the city. Self-governance and city government, ethics and politics are locked in a relationship of identity that negates any separation between the city and the individuals who comprise it. As explored above, Avempace’s opposition to the administration of the household can only be interpreted by the fact that this type of government imposes separate aims on family clans, replacing the shared civil aim, and thereby preventing the city from forming a Whole that transcends other types of tadbīr.³⁹

This same logic serves as the foundation for Averroes’ criticism—not of the science of the household government itself, but rather of the transformation of certain societies into spaces governed by clan or family-based systems. Rather surprisingly for modern thinkers, it is democracy that is likened to the government of the household. To understand this particular view of the democratic regime, it should be noted that in the Commentary on Aristotle’s Rhetoric, democracy is referred to as the ‘city of groups’ (al-siyāsa al-ǧamāʿiyya) and that it is likened to arbitrary government, and to individuals’ desire i) to be free, and ii) to be able to eliminate the ideally merit-based hierarchical relationships enjoyed by the rulers in relation to the governed.⁴⁰ Another idea is put forward in the Commentary on Plato’s Republic, and is line with Avempace’s remarks. Averroes notes that most Muslim cities of the time were ‘democratic’, as for him, the essence of democracy was the division of society into family and clan groups that broke the bond of political unity, and reorganized all spheres of society and the economy according to the interests of the parties rather than the interests of the whole. The contradiction of this regime lies in that democracy really does form a whole, however one that is entirely disjointed and disconnected, a contradiction that is perfectly reflected in the term ‘ǧamāʿiyya’, which encapsulates both ‘the whole’ and the ‘separate groups’.

The association in these States is of necessity only one of chance, since they do not aim at one end in their association. Consequently, authority in them is only accidental. The associations among many of the Muslim kings today are communities exclusively based upon homes. Of the norm only that which observes the first laws is left among them. It is clear that in this State all property appertains to the home.⁴¹

Averroes’ critique here is of major political relevance: if family ties and lineage are the basis of political association, this means that the State is only the product of the juxtaposition of all the clans. This also means that state order remains dependent on the order of the clan, and the domination of one clan over the others. Here, we can see how Aristotelian and Platonic typologies have not only been studied from a normative point of view, but also used to understand the historical reality of the societies of classical Islam. Such a critical look at social reality shows how Averroes anticipated the formation of Ibn Khaldūn’s realist political thought, one of the strengths of which resided in the study of anthropological mechanisms and concrete factors leading to the birth of a powerful clan, endowed with a social solidarity (ʿaṣabiyya) and capable of nurturing the ambition of founding a State. However, while for Ibn Khaldūn, the clan is the cornerstone of any political structure, for Averroes and Avempace, it leads to the ruin of the State and the fragmentation of members of the political body.

4 Aristotle’s Influence: Moral Philosophy or Political Philosophy?

In light of the absence of Politics in the Arab context, in which Aristotle undertook the singular task of studying one hundred and fifty-eight constitutions, with the particular judicial or political functions that characterizes them, and their effects on morals, social habits and laws, can we still support the existence of truly political thinking among Arab philosophers, or should we simply refer to their writings as ‘moral’? Ibn Khaldūn himself, at a crucial moment in the final decades of the classical age of Islam, when he began examining the political knowledge of his predecessors, described the works of philosophers such as al-Fārābī as politically useless, and valid only for self-governance.⁴² As such, would these treatises not be – at most – valid only for ethical reform and self-improvement, given that they in no way address the matter of political power, nor explain the genesis of the State, its evolution, or disintegration? Based on this observation by Ibn Khaldūn and other philological considerations, Dimitri Gutas sought to defend the notion of the absence of political philosophy in the person generally considered to be the very founder of political philosophy in Islam: al-Fārābī.

According to Dimitri Gutas, true political philosophy only arrived in Islam with Ibn Khaldūn, whereas the technical terms and vocabulary used by al-Fārābī and other authors to address the matter of belonging to the city or to discuss political activity actually only have a slightly political, and even purely moral dimension.

Discussions [on human communities and their governance], says D. Gutas, are always derivative, not central, and they depend for their philosophical validity on al-Fārābī’s metaphysical scheme and his theory of the intellect (noetics) rather than on any properly political analysis or argumentation.⁴³

The term ‘madanī’, an adjective derived from ‘madīna’ (city), which refers to everything civil, is present in the very name of political science (ʿilm al-siyāsa) used by the philosophers, who also call it al-ʿilm al-madanī (civil science), ʿilm tadbīr al-mudun (the science of city government), al-ʿilm al-insānī (human science) or al-ʿilm al-irādī (voluntary science).⁴⁴ Focusing on the term ‘madanī’, frequently used by al-Fārābī, D. Gutas, observes that translators in Baghdad between the 9th and 10th centuries used it without any real political connotation. It simply means “a person or thing that belongs or pertains to a city”.⁴⁵ At the same time, the watchword of Greek political philosophy, politeia, which, in the historical and cultural context of ancient Greece, refers to the constitution of the city-state, was not correctly understood by the translators, leading them to overlook the legal and political meaning of the term and to retain only the moral meaning of ‘way of life’, bios or moral conduct. Expressions such as al-sīra al-madaniyya, referring to the type of constitution adopted by a given city has therefore taken on a moral and psychological hue. A correct translation of the Greek term politeia, had it been understood correctly, bearing in mind the general interest of a State and the advantages provided by the arrangement of offices (magistracies or powers), established there, would have resulted in the Arabic terms qawānīn (regulations, laws, nomoï) or aḥkām (legal rules, legislative ordinances) rather than the vague and only slightly political term sīra.⁴⁶

For Dimitri Gutas, if the Fārābian understanding of Aristotelian political philosophy is correct, it should be limited to what is said about politeia in Nicomachean Ethics, as it refers to the moral way of life (virtuous, vicious, timocratic, tyrannical, etc.) adopted by individuals within the city.

Al-Fārābī’s so-called ‘politics’ is thus actually based on ethics for two reasons: first because he derives it primarily from the Nicomachean Ethics, which leads him to develop an ethical framework for understanding what we call ‘political life, and second because the mistranslation of politeia as ‘way of life’, sīra, led him to concentrate on an ethical concept as the key feature of ‘political life’.⁴⁷

Although Dimitri Gutas’ analyses are based on a high level of philological competence, the central interpretation involving removing the political content of al-Fārābī’s philosophy and reducing it solely to morality merits some comment. Firstly, it would seem that in Dimitri Gutas’ use of the words ‘political’ or ‘politics’, the term should be unambiguous and apply exclusively to the legal organization of power. Now, we see that there are several ways of approaching politics, which may be judicial (tradition of public or constitutional law), historical-literary (mirrors of princes and the arts of governing), theological (writings on the imamate) or philosophical (as we approach it here).⁴⁸ Moreover, given that politics is the art of leading the people or affairs of the city, it is therefore hard to support an understanding limiting it to the legal and institutional aspects of the organization of power, as stated by D. Gutas in this work. The polysemy of the terms siyāsa and tadbīr, for example, two pivotal concepts in Arab political philosophy, as well as the plurivocity of the objects and domains to which they apply, encourages us not to fall prey to the modern representation of this work, which reduces it to technical-practical or purely legal-institutional dimensions. The fact that Ibn Khaldūn is considered the first political philosopher in the Arab tradition is even more surprising, given that he i) fiercely opposes the philosophers, and that ii) his thinking is not founded on the legal aspects that D. Gutas presents, based on his reading of Aristotle, as fundamental criteria to legitimize the use of the term ‘political’. The desire to remove all political meaning from the vocabulary of Arab philosophers preceding Ibn Khaldūn leaves us all the more perplexed, as it reduces the approach to power alone, and to the concrete elements of State administration.⁴⁹

Regarding the philological analysis of the term madanī, it would be fair to say that it is a relational adjective formed from the words madīna (city) and designating “of the city, politikè”, but would be strange to say that when the adjective is turned into a noun and applied to the man in charge of governing the city (the king, the statesman, politikos), the term must always be taken in a non-political sense.⁵⁰ In the Selected Aphorisms, al-Fārābī clearly notes that the politician (madanī) is responsible for caring for souls just as the doctor is the one who cares for bodies. In this definition, he is presented as the statesman (al-insān al-madanī) or the king (al-malik).⁵¹ Likewise, the adjective ‘madanī’, when used in conjunction with philosophy (falsafa madaniyya), art (ṣināʿa madaniyya) or science (ʿilm madanī), refers to political philosophy, its principles and purposes, as detailed in the Enumeration of Sciences.⁵² Here, the spatial, geographical or territorial meaning (belonging to a city’s territory) gives way to other more elaborate meanings. The philological analysis conducted by D. Gutas is very competent, however she merely finds the Arabic equivalents to the Greek terms, in assessing their adequacy or divergence with respect to the understanding of Aristotle’s original text. However, to measure the effect of the translation of an idea or the introduction of a concept in a new linguistic culture, we would need to further question the semantic innovations and lexical creations it may have given rise to. This is what we observe in the new reflections led by Arab philosophers, who show that the word madanī did not solely have a geographical meaning referring to the territorial space of the city (city-dweller). In a text by Miskawayh, a contemporary of al-Fārābī and whose political philosophy owes much to Nicomachean Ethics, we see that the Arabic root (MDN) resulted in the formation of the notion of ‘madaniyya’, which can be translated as ‘citizenship’ or ‘political sociability’.⁵³ The creation of this abstract noun expressing quality (maṣdar ṣināʿī in Arabic grammar) shows that we have moved beyond the grammatical stage of the relational adjective (of the city, city-dweller) to reflect on the state and the quality of citizenship. This is what we find in an in-depth reading of certain passages in Miskawayh. Referencing the Aristotelian postulate according to which man is political by nature, before establishing that human association and mutual assistance among its members constitute madaniyya, Miskawayh specifies that this term comprises two states: the first, prosperity (ʿimāra) and the second, ruin (ḫarāb).

The state of prosperity”, he says, “is achieved by the large number of auxiliaries, and the promotion of justice among them, thanks to the might of the political power that ensures their conditions, safeguards their ranks and eliminates insecurity from their lives. By the great number of auxiliaries, I mean the mutual assistance of physical strength and wills through great works, some of which are necessary for survival, others useful for living well, and a third category, useful for enjoyment. It is the combination of these three things that constitutes prosperity. But if the city is lacking any of these three elements, then it falls into ruin, and if it is lacking two of them – the good life and the enjoyment of life – then it is in an extreme state of ruin.⁵⁴

Miskawayh adds that the way of life satisfied with the mere necessities, such as in ascetics, is a negation of madaniyya, since it calls into question the material conditions for the attainment of happiness and prosperity. This depends on the cultivation of the land, the disciplines associated with this activity, the defense of the State by military means, and the intensification of transport and commercial activities. Without these three elements (1. agriculture and industry, 2. military arts and 3. transportation and trade), Miskawayh says, one cannot attain the ‘excellent life’ (ǧawdat al-ʿayš). Madaniyya manifests as an element through the participation of individuals in the common affairs of the city, in order to ensure its prosperity and create the conditions for an excellent life. Truly civil life is therefore not limited to the mere belonging to the space the city inhabits, where individuals are content with their basic needs being met, as in ascetics, nor a mere space for the exercise of virtuous ethics. The excellence of political sociability rests on the distinction between living and living well, which is at the basis of Aristotle’s political thought, as can be seen in an opening passage of Politics (I, 2, 1252b 29–30) where he states that the city is formed “for the sake of mere life” but unlike other imperfect communities such as the household or the village, “it exists for the sake of a good life”.⁵⁵ This expression, synonymous with eudaimonia, means that man blossoms in the city by accessing the virtues within his reach and of which he is capable. For this reason, the ‘madaniyya’ (state and quality of citizenship) is not only confused with ‘siyāsa’ (politics, government) but also with ‘al-insāniyya’ (the realization of the human essence).

Another equally as important passage in the same book describes political power as an art (ṣināʿa) at the foundation of madaniyya, leaving no doubt as to the political meaning of the term, and dispels the ambiguities created by D. Gutas’ reading.

Political power (mulk) is an art at the foundation of citizenship (madaniyya), as it is capable of leading men to pursue the interests that derive from their laws and leadership, whether by choice or coercion. It is also an art that safeguards people’s positions and livelihoods, so that they are guided in the best way possible.⁵⁶

Certainly, al-Fārābī’s approach, which is at the heart of this discussion, is unique in that it cannot be traced to that of other authors such as Miskawayh, Avempace or Averroes, philosophers whose political ideas can be appreciated using other criteria and assume different meanings. However, this kind of analysis by one of al-Fārābī’s contemporaries shows that the term ‘madanī’ had an eminently political meaning. In addition, the term ‘madanī’ and its derivatives were used a century before, as we saw above with al-Kindī, to refer to political science. The presence of this kind of analysis in the work of a contemporary of al-Fārābī thus reflects the permanence of this political meaning assigned to the term. One could concede to Dimitri Gutas, of course, that al-Fārābī’s political approach is unique because it is overdetermined by ethics. The constitutions referred to in his works exceed the number found in Aristotle or Plato, to the point of increasing the number of cities based on the aims pursued by their leaders, and the ways of life that prevail there. The proliferation in the number of bad cities (double the number of Aristotle’s) shows that their nature varies, ultimately, according to the aim pursued by the leader, and above all, according to the conduct and morals they establish by acceding to government. In the same way, the focus on the leader means the governed only gains access to politics by emulating the prince’s conduct, and it is the imitation of the prince’s way of life that makes citizens virtuous, ignorant or vile. But is this conception, however moralizing, a betrayal of the teachings of Aristotelian political philosophy?

We know that Aristotle conceives politeia not only as an arrangement of offices, but also as a widespread temperament amongst people, leading them to choose one type of government over another.⁵⁷ In his important article retracing the meaning of the word politeia and its different philological, literary, philosophical and political uses, J.J. Mulhern argues “that Aristotle had in mind mainly four distinct senses in using politeia in the Politics – citizenship, citizen-body, constitution or arrangement of offices, and regime”.⁵⁸ At the end of his article, he argues that “an exact understanding leads away from treating Aristotle’s argument as focused on constitutions or forms of government in every case”.⁵⁹ Thus, the understanding of both translators and Arab philosophers of the term politeia and its translation by sīra was quite accurate and appropriate. To define the best city, Aristotle calls for an examination of the most worthy way of life (Politics, VII, 1, 1323-a). The problem of the good life therefore joins that of the best city; the two subjects are inseparable from each other, as confirmed by the division of political science into two parts: ethics, studying the characters and virtues of justice, prudence, friendship, etc., and politics, which deals with types of cities and regimes. As Ch. Genequand notes in his critical discussion of the work of D. Gutas, Gutas’ argument disregards a number of philological points relating to the meaning Aristotle gives to the term politeia in Nicomachean Ethics, which goes beyond the simple legal-institutional framework in which D. Gutas seeks to confine it.⁶⁰

For al-Fārābī, Charles Genequand says, moral action is therefore not conceivable outside a political framework, which is expressed rather accurately by the adjective madanī. However, it can still be considered from two angles: moral in the sense of action determined by an internal motivation ḫuluqī), or political as conditioned by external rules (siyāsī).⁶¹

Al-Fārābī follows this path of the inseparability of ethics and politics in all his works on the perfect city. That path is clearly explained by Averroes at the beginning of Commentary on Plato’s Republic: he points out that ethics and politics are the same science, the parts of which differ only in that the first generally describes the principles of good deeds, while the second relates to the means of fostering virtuous habits in individuals.

[…] This art (of Politics) is divided into two parts: in the first part acquired habits, volitional actions and behaviour in general are mentioned in a comprehensive exposition. Their mutual relationship is also explained, and which of these habits are due to which others. In the second part will be explained how these habits become entrenched in the soul, and which of them are co-ordinated so that the action resulting from the intended habit should be perfect to the highest degree; and which habits hinder one another. Generally, in this part are placed things which are capable of realization, if they are conditioned by general principles.⁶⁴

The link between ethics and politics, which is at the heart of both Aristotle’s and Plato’s philosophies, is therefore accepted by Arab philosophers. What changes, however, is the geographical scale of the pursuit of the supreme good, which extends far beyond the city-state of the Greek philosophers. This is one of the most important aspects marking the distance taken by the Arab philosophers from the Greek masters. To explore this aspect, a study of human excellence will be the key to understanding the foundations of Arab political philosophy.

5 On Human Excellence and the Politeia

The concepts of kamāl and faḍīla, which is the translation of “aretē”, have no moral or religious meaning for Arab philosophers (nor for Aristotle, incidentally). They are instead synonyms for excellence in function, the perfect realization of the full potential of something, and flawlessly performing a task. The concept of kamāl is fundamental because it first cultivates reflections on the kind of life most worthy of being lived (which is the purpose of ethics). It then calls for a search for the excellent city, one which fosters happiness and ensures that everyone can attain excellence as part of the city, according to their individual skills and aptitudes (a point which brings us to the realm of politics). Finally, the search for excellence that is truly human necessarily prompts us to reflect on the distinction between humans and other beings (reason), which leads us to psychology and metaphysics.

In a lengthy passage in the Commentary on Plato’s Republic,⁶⁹ Averroes restates the typology of four types of excellence set out by al-Fārābī, and largely preserves their essence. Theoretical excellence relates to sciences such as astronomy and metaphysics, for example, which are not related to practical activities. Ethical excellence is what shapes a morally exemplary individual. Deliberative or cogitative excellence (fikriyya) relates to the field of practical disciplines and applies to those that require established knowledge; a scientific study addressing the fundamental concepts of science, its universals, and theoretically demonstrate the rules for performing the art. This is the case for politics or medicine, for example. Theoretical knowledge is indispensable in these fields in order to master the discipline, yet their practical purpose takes precedence and outweighs the theoretical function. Lastly, excellence in craftmanship pertains to making an object and crafting something in the best possible way; this relates to production activities, in general.

The theory of excellence put forward by al-Fārābī, later taken up by Averroes and other philosophers such as Avempace and Maimonides,⁷⁰ is key to understanding the role of politics in their overall philosophical vision. The reorganization of Aristotle’s ideas described above provokes reflection on the ensemble of human activities, organized in such a way as to point to one distinct, ultimate goal. This creates the necessary conditions for humankind to undertake that which sets it apart from other beings, namely that which allows individuals to fully express their humanity (insāniyya). However, this is confused with intellect, as noted by Aristotle in Nicomachean Ethics (X 7, 1178a 5–10), as intellect designates humankind’s true function (ergon), and meets the definition of happiness as an activity in keeping with virtue, namely an individual’s potential (Nicomachean Ethics, I, 6). Averroes analyzes this typology in the context of an Aristotelian discussion: what is more noble, a contemplative life or an active life? And what is the highest excellence? Activities for the city’s common good and its political wellbeing, or intellectual activities relating to matters that the will (irāda) does not seek or cannot bring about? The answer to this question relates to the role of each excellence and gives rise to the establishment of an ontological ordering for each one, in order to ensure that the ultimate goal (theoretical knowledge, life according to what is intelligible) may be recognized as such, and the other types of excellences may act as propaedeutical to this goal. The criteria defining supreme excellence and the ultimate goal of humankind are threefold: plurality and unity, materiality and immateriality, and self-sufficiency or dependence of the excellence. According to these criteria, the supreme excellence must be unique, immaterial and sought for its own sake, not to serve the purpose of another excellence. Only theoretical science satisfies these criteria and meets the requirements, resulting in its selection as humankind’s ultimate goal.

The hierarchy of excellences and their arrangement towards a distinct goal is what maintains their plurality on the one hand (as it is not a question of cultivating one excellence at the expense of another) and demonstrates, on the other, that the ontological order unifying them under the banner of a supreme excellence cannot be upturned without giving rise to disastrous consequences for the possibility of attaining what embodies man’s humanity. It is critical to our discussion that setting the order of each excellence, in addition to complying with noetic and ontological considerations, must be seen to bear a highly political meaning. In reality, it embodies the political order that the perfect city must produce and safeguard. According to al-Fārābī and Averroes, an excellent city is one in which the statesmen, administrators, strategists, secretaries, etc., recognize the superiority of theoretical sciences and purely scientific knowledge, and give primacy to nurturing this knowledge, despite it being remote from practice. Similarly, a city that deems moral excellence to be the ultimate goal in life is mistaken, and thus misleads the citizens who comprise it, since the excellent character is not solely a human attribute. Indeed, certain animals set the example through their courage (the lion) and generosity (the rooster). The same can be said for the excellence in craftsmanship observed in bees or ants. Since Aristotle’s best constitution is based on the definition of a certain order (taxis), but applied to the distribution of powers among citizens, the two great political philosophers of Islam, al-Fārābī and Averroes, would determine this order from the hierarchy of human excellence, and the best constitution (the aristē politeia) would therefore be the one that manages to maintain it according to the hierarchy that facilitates the study of man’s nature or his own function. The excellence of producers and artisans supplies the city with material goods; since statesmen, judges, strategists, etc., must be virtuous, ethical excellence is propaedeutical to deliberative excellence, and the moral education of the people is one of their political tasks. Finally, the excellent leadership of the city makes it possible to attain extreme happiness by adhering to sound thought on metaphysical matters (God, the manner with which He must be described and represented) and psychology (the fate of the soul in the afterlife, and divine fortune and misfortune).

For al-Fārābī and Averroes, as discussed below, philosophy does not, in addressing politics, determine concrete measures relating to the organization of the judiciary or the distribution of power within the State. In place of this work, which is at the heart of the Aristotelian undertaking in Politics, we see the emergence of a reflection on politeia as a perfect entanglement of human excellence, and the realization of the nature of man, i.e. of his ontological destination. This is particularly true of the relationship between theoretical excellence and deliberative excellence, and between deliberative excellence and ethical excellence: a City that ensures prosperity and material comfort for its citizens, a State that acquires power in the military, financial, scientific or other fields, by abandoning the moral purpose of action, could give rise to evils by becoming materialistic, despotic or imperialist, for example. The same interdependence between excellences exists in the practical arts: the epistemological nature of technē is called into question when the thing is not known (absence of theoretical investigation), when one does not have the competence to consider errors in its performance, or when one fails to understand the purpose for which it is performed. In such cases, art, such as that of war, is not exercised properly and according to criteria that can truly bring about good or prevent harm to the City and its citizens.

Thanks to the reading and commentary of Aristotle, the theory of human perfections, as we see it in al-Fārābī and Averroes, goes beyond what seems to be a contradiction in Aristotle’s texts, highlighting the fact that it is simply a shift in perspective. This apparent contradiction can be seen in a comparison between Book VI of Nicomachean Ethics, which posits that prudence constitutes happiness, and that it is activity within the city that provides it, and Book X, which establishes, in Chapter 8, that prudence, the supreme virtue of the practical intellect, is linked to the passions and thus to the irrational nature of the soul. This opposition between the virtue of the rationally calculating part of the soul (phronēsis) and the excellence of its scientific part (sophia), is abandoned in De Anima, in which the terminology pits practical intellect against theoretical intellect. It is indeed the same intellect, however when it undertakes reasoning with a goal in mind, it is practical, whereas when the reasoning relates to objects unrelated to practice, it is theoretical (De Anima, III 10, 433a). The difficulty resides in the fact that the Nicomachean Ethics widens the gap between prudence and the other virtues in order to emphasize what distinguishes the excellence of the politician, whereas the other texts that adopt a noetic perspective draw them closer by subsuming these various cognitive aspects under the rational part of the soul.

In view of these diverse perspectives on the approach to the virtues man is capable of, Arab philosophers undertook to resolve the tensions underlying the different parts of the Aristotelian corpus. For them, the happiest life is not political life, but rather life according to intellect. This is what brings us closer to the shores of the divine and promises us a kind of separation. Fulfilment therefore corresponds to supreme bliss, and it is continuous thought that achieves the purpose for which man exists. The Arab Aristotelian philosophers therefore settle this debate by taking noetics, i.e. the study of man’s cognitive faculties and the rational soul, as the basis for determining his ultimate purpose. Although it is grounded in Aristotle’s doctrine and constitutes one of the most successful attempts to shed light on its depth and richness, the interpretative work carried out by al-Fārābī and Averroes will lead us away from the perspectives initially adopted by the Stagirite. While theoretical excellence must be recognized with the greatest dignity, in the spirit of Aristotle, it does not necessarily follow that those endowed with it must be the rulers of the city. The influence of the image of the Platonic king-philosopher on al-Fārābī or Averroes, however, prompts them to emphasize the role that a man of exceptional qualities can play in the founding or preservation of the perfect regime. Here, Aristotle makes way for Plato, whose texts had a considerable influence on the representation of the abilities and status of the political leader.

6 Downgrading Phronēsis, Highlighting Practical Intellect: Still Aristotle?

These developments demonstrate how the tensions that enliven Aristotle’s political philosophy have been resolved by Arabic Peripatetics thanks to the articulation of noetic, metaphysical and ethical-political levels. Although this work takes its inspiration from commentaries on Aristotle’s texts, its results lead to territories where Aristotle’s doctrine is no longer fully recognizable. However, these results nevertheless maintain a common thread that connects them to the other texts that are subject to commentary. To measure meaning and impact in the field of political philosophy, three points resulting from the reformulation of the theory of human perfections by Arab philosophers must be addressed.

By establishing that teaching theoretical sciences is essential to attaining ultimate happiness, and that deliberative excellence should be considered as a propaedeutic that prepares one for more elevated excellence, the Fārābian city obscures the dividing lines that Aristotle wanted to draw between, on one hand, the prudent and the legislator and, on the other hand, the philosopher who is not interested in the city, does not understand what is useful for himself and others and lives like an immortal god. However, some passages from Nicomachean Ethics are testament to the desire to reconcile these two aspects,⁷⁵ although for al-Fārābī, this merging of human excellence with civic excellence is more extreme to the extent that philosopher, leader, legislator and king are synonymous terms.⁷⁶ Furthermore, what is shown in several parts of his work is the interchangeability of nomenclature between political science (al-ʿilm al-madanī) and human science (al-ʿilm al-insānī).⁷⁷ The resolution of the tension between the political happiness of the citizen (the good man, Book VI of the Nicomachean Ethics) and human happiness (whose purpose is contemplation, Book X of the Nicomachean Ethics) is thus the first and primary effect of the theory of human perfections founded by Arab philosophers.

The secondary effect of restructuring Aristotelian elements around a purely noetic axis relates to the question of happiness, which is no longer solely political, but, above all, intellectual and metaphysical. It can even be described in its theological aspects because it is turned towards the idea of God, the source of absolute perfection, and because it is then linked to all of the dogmas and theoretical knowledge taught in the perfect society with regard to divine attributes, the hierarchy of intellects, prophecy, the status of well-guided leaders and all that constitutes opinions and right actions leading to the salvation of souls. However, as has been highlighted above, the same distinction between deliberative excellence and theoretical excellence is paradoxically dedicated to strong subordination of the political to the metaphysical, and prohibits the autonomy of the latter with regard to the former. According to this analysis, it is therefore impossible to succeed in making political art fully independent from the objectives of salvation in the afterlife. However, this analysis is not based on religious considerations, but is the result of al-Fārābī’s noetic, which has been extended variously by Miskawayh, Avicenna and Averroes by turning the salvation of the soul into a real philosophical problem.

Although it is possible to express this noetic-eschatological plan in line with al-Fārābī’s political philosophy, it can be seen that the difference between ignorant cities and the perfect city lies, definitively, in the fact that the latter promises its citizens the celestial purpose described above. Other cities, whether timocratic, oligarchic, tyrannical, democratic, wicked or other, are not concerned with the future of its citizen’s souls and do not put in place a policy to look after them. The description of the destiny awaiting the souls of individuals belonging to ignorant cities, dedicated to destruction or misfortune because they are chained to material things, confirms this intellectual notion of happiness by al-Fārābī and shows how politics and metaphysics have been conceptually linked, just like other pairs, such as power and action, or matter and form. This illustration of the eschatological nature of true happiness indirectly shows that the foundation of civic happiness suffers from an original flaw that prevents it from being established as a fully immanent and autonomous end. It also demonstrates how, by moving away from praising philosophy as the reigning discipline of knowledge, through which study provides a systematic understanding of being and thus of happiness, it can result in another definition of philosophy as assimilation to God and sharing truly divine attributes, through the clarification of the eschatological nature of happiness.

Despite these aspects that draw us considerably further from Aristotle’s political thinking, it is not necessary to interpret subordinating politics to metaphysics from a religious perspective. We must not lose sight of the fact that this representation of the purpose of civil association by al-Fārābī has simultaneously led to the ultimate purpose of man becoming more secular as the fact of converting it into active intellect and cultivating the understanding of intelligibles is an action that starts here on earth. However, it is the expectation for this end that is described as the equivalent of future life and the sheer happiness of the soul after death. In addition, in the movement that relegates honor and utility to pseudo-happiness, as they do not achieve the ultimate purpose of man, al-Fārābī provides a strong theory that would find its way into Latin Averroism and be condemned in the context of Christianity by Etienne Tempier in 1277 because it rightly establishes a strong secular nature to the ultimate purpose of man. This theory states: “There is no position more excellent than attending to philosophy”.⁷⁸

The third, and no less important effect of the theory of human excellence lies in the distinction between phronēsis and practical intellect. Phronēsis, which is rendered in Arabic as ‘taʿaqqul’, is described as a capacity for inference and deliberative excellence, which can relate to the direction of cities or achieving human welfare, just as it can concern legislation within cities, as quickly indicated in the Book of Letters, by incorporating phronimos with the work of the jurist (faqīh).⁷⁹ Despite the diversity of forms related to phronēsis, the scope of this virtue is much more restrained in the sense that it is tantamount to a type of intelligence that cannot exhaust the overall sense of practical reason, which is responsible for determining the universal and specific principles of political science. Phronēsis is thus limited to the long experience acquired within the company of man and the resolution of particular matters.⁸⁰ By presenting phronēsis as the pinnacle of practical truth and the phronimos himself as a living example that embodies prudence and being exempt from having knowledge about it, Aristotle insisted on the autonomy of this virtue from the nous and emphasized its orientation towards the contingent and the particular.⁸¹ Arab philosophers went beyond this point, with a difference in scope that consists of entrusting practical intellect with the responsibility for designing, in and by thought, the universal principles of practical arts.⁸² Unlike Aristotle, the notion of ‘taʿaqqul’ (which in the Arab philosophical context should be rendered as ‘prudence’ rather than ‘practical wisdom’) does not encompass the entire field of practical philosophy and although it is part of the fundamental qualities for a leader of the perfect city,⁸³ it leads to a form of cleverness, a description of which also existed in Aristotle’s work.⁸⁴ Al-Fārābī also innovated by comparing phronēsis with notions such as cunning and wisdom, while he contrasted practical intellect and theoretical intellect, which, in his opinion, is dedicated exclusively to speculation on the First Being and on the nature of true happiness.

It is this limitation in the scope of prudence that led al-Fārābī to compare this capacity with extreme cunning (al-dahāʾ) and other forms of inference. This shows that this capacity to properly deliberate focuses less on the means than on the purpose as such and that the variation of the latter makes it possible to specify the type of deliberation being addressed. In addition, the cunning person, like the prudent (mutaʿaqqil, phronimos) has an excellent disposition, allowing him to deliberate and to choose well. However, the difference lies in the purposes that, for the prudent, are arranged in line with civil good, which should necessarily be considered as propaedeutic towards the good in the afterlife, while for the deceitful, there are other virtues (wealth, pleasure, power, honors).⁸⁵ It is thus shown that, epistemologically, phronēsis is on an equal footing with cunning, as both are perceived as instruments leading to a virtuous or evil end.

Far from being at the core of political philosophy for Arab followers of Aristotle and playing the role that Aristotle gave them in his work, analysis on phronēsis have been mobilized to assess the action of two men who were the origin of a historic period in the story of the beginning of Islam, namely the conflict between ʿAlī, the fourth Caliph, and Muʿāwiya, the winner of the civil war that pitted him against his adversary, and the founder of the Umayyad Caliphate in 661. This historical example is mentioned by al-Fārābī in the Epistle on Intellect and Avempace in the Governance of the Solitary. It can lead back to the question of moral purpose in practical intellect and the option of whether to admire a man whose capacity to infer and deliberate is not directed at the common good, but rather his calculated personal interest. For Aristotle, the distinction between phronēsis and cleverness is in the moral purpose of the action, but, at the same time, shows that phronēsis is not without the mastery of a certain intelligence that is noble when its goal is good and villainy when it is bad (VI. 12, 1144a). This reading axis was adopted by al-Fārābī and Avempace in order to correct the common opinion regarding the appreciation of this historical episode of the Fitna. For al-Fārābī and Avempace, the common representation of practical intellect tended to confuse the phronimos, as described by Aristotle, meaning the politician whose practical intellectual capabilities are focused on the good of the city, and the cunning man or the crafty politician who places his personal interest above that of the group. The two philosophers show that it is necessary to go beyond this common opinion which confuses many things about the true nature of phronēsis. It is commonly held, with the exception of Shiites, that Muʿāwiya is the model for crafty intellect and diplomatic finesse in Arabic political thinking, especially among historians and mirrors for princes’ authors, and this is reason for which he is described as ‘mutaʿaqqil/phronimos’. Thus, the two philosophers show that there is a need to look beyond this commonly held belief, which conflates many aspects of the true nature of prudence. Furthermore, the mass has a proven fascination with this extreme intelligence, which can be separated from any moral assessment of the purposes of political action, and it is for this reason that prudence is also aligned by some authors of political treatises with extreme cunning (dahāʾ) and power, of which Muʿāwiya is the embodiment in the history of Islam, with the exception of Shiites. However, for al-Fārābī and Avempace, the real man endowed with practical intelligence is one who takes into account the purpose of his action and the ethical elements involved therein. Thus, contrary to popular opinion, they show that it is ʿAlī who conformed to the model of phronēsis, even though he was defeated by his enemy. It is therefore this, primarily historic, interpretation that fuels discussion on phronēsis in Arab philosophical tradition.

7 From the City-State to the City-World: Signs of Universalization in Aristotle’s Political Thinking

One of the most prominent aspects of the theory of human perfections, as we have seen above, consisted of illustrating the need for command in philosophy and legitimizing its objective of organizing all of human knowledge. Theologians, jurists, holders of religious knowledge (hadith, Koranic exegesis, etc.), secretaries, politicians, strategists are all placed under the umbrella of the only intellect that knows the ultimate happiness of man, as well as the means of making people happy. This assumption is the foundation of many discussions on al-Fārābī, which all strike a controversial note, for the recognition of philosophy, rather than religion or other human knowledge, as the queen of sciences and the ultimate origin of knowledge, from both chronological and ontological perspectives.

On the basis that philosophy reached maturity thanks to Aristotle, who perfected reasoning methods in Organon, and established the path to achieving human excellence, al-Fārābī then arrived to assess the knowledge available in Islamic era, in particular religious knowledge, such as theology (kalām) and law (fiqh), as disciplines inferior to philosophy.

It is clear, al-Fārābī says, that the arts of dialectical theology and jurisprudence are subsequent to religious law, which in turn is subsequent to philosophy, that the dialectical and sophist faculty predated philosophy and that dialectical philosophy and sophist philosophy preceded demonstrative philosophy. Overall, philosophy came before religious law, in the same way that over time, those who use tools come before the tools.⁸⁶

Al-Fārābī was persuaded that philosophy pre-dates the divinely revealed religions. To phrase it another way, he was certain that the chronological precedence of philosophy over revelation thus confirmed that which is originally innate in humans and belongs to their ontological condition, namely natural reason. This chronological precedence is coupled with epistemological pre-eminence that originates from the fact that only philosophy has developed reasoning that leads to certainty and not persuasion, as is the case in religious discourse.⁸⁷ The latter aims to achieve agreement from the most people possible and does not hesitate to resort to poetic and rhetorical arguments. However, in social and political terms, it is religion that is given merit to educate human beings, once its principles, teachings, sections (theoretical and practical) and its purposes (leading to happiness both on earth and in the afterlife) are tied with those of philosophy.

In the Book of Religion, the same assimilation and subordination of religious knowledge and philosophy is reviewed and extended to other aspects, such as examining the respective role of the prophet who founded a virtuous religious community, and that of the philosopher king who founded the perfect city. These observations demonstrate that philosophy is the only carrier of wisdom permitted to be the origin of norms. Whence discussions on the need to afford philosophers exclusive status at the top of the elite, even if several other groups, such as bearers of religious knowledge and politicians, also vie for the status of the elite within the elite.⁸⁸ Many issues related to teaching religion, its relationship with philosophy, the difference, within logical arts, between demonstrative and non-demonstrative arguments and, lastly, the use of images and symbols to teach some metaphysical truths to the wider population, originated from the establishment of philosophy and assigning philosophy a political role in guiding the community.⁸⁹ Nevertheless, it is intellect that should govern the city, but it can also take charge of a nation or several nations, or even claim to govern human beings in a universal state.

It should be noted that in these developments as brought about by Arab philosophers from Organon, the rhetoric to which Aristotle already assigned an important function within the city⁹⁰ was further politicized due to the fact that it was integral to teaching the general population (al-ǧumhūr) and for taking responsibility for conveying theological opinions and moral values taken from religion as truths, expressing the same message as in philosophy using demonstrative methods that were adapted from the teaching of philosophical elites.⁹¹ The major consequence for our assertion is that the validity of teachings expressed by a religion, both in terms of dogma and moral practice, is measured in al-Fārābī and Averroes by the universality of the religion and its ability to play the same role for the masses as philosophy plays for the academic elite. That is why al-Fārābī believes that virtuous government may involve several religious communities, and Averroes only defends the superiority of Islam compared to other monotheistic religions because it conveys a more universalist message.⁹² This way of tackling the relationship between religion and philosophy shows how the former can only be virtuous or lead Man to happiness when it is based on the universal teachings of the second.

As the fundamental issue is the transmission of excellence such as defined by a philosophy which lies at the origin of human knowledge and which reached perfection with Aristotle, and seeing that this teaching that would lead peoples and nations to happiness must be conveyed by religion to reach the largest number of people, there must be universal grounds which can transcend differences between people in terms of dogmas and religious opinions. The only condition for the success of this contention is that religions should be linked with good philosophy and not with its altered or primitive forms such as sophistry or pre-Socratic philosophy. Positive religious laws must themselves be subject to the natural law which emanates from the first universally shared intelligibles and which bear witness to the existence of a certain ethical universalism that goes beyond distinctive religious, ethnic or linguistic identities.⁹³

This opening to the universal where political science guided by philosophy and assisted by religion no longer recognizes the territorial boundaries of the Greek city is the last point that must be developed in this work. As the thinking of Arab philosophers centers around an issue of government focused on happiness and the attainment of excellences, it is very far removed from speculation on the State, the study of anthropological mechanisms relating to its genesis, or power relationships that make it possible to think of power in concreto. This is important to note because it shows the sense in which they understood Man as a political being. And as this is an issue focused on government and not on power, we must ask ourselves why they were led to think of this tie-in between political philosophy and the idea of universal government, rather than between political philosophy and the City-state, as is the case with Aristotle. Would a pseudo-Aristotle, he of the Letters to Alexander, have played a determining role in this scaling up from the territorial dimensions of the city to that of nations, or even of the federation of several nations?

From the beginning of Islam – to be specific, under the government of the Umayyads – and long before the beginning of the great movement of systematic translation of the texts of Aristotle in the ninth century, a collection of letters entitled the Letters from Aristotle to Alexander was translated to meet the political needs of the new Arab Empire and assimilate certain major teachings of the art of governing as practiced by the Ancients. This text paints a picture of an Aristotle by his pupil’s side, acting as an adviser or minister, dictating to him the best policy for the administration of the lands conquered in Persia and India, bestowing upon him his precious advice and supporting him from a distance in constructing the universal State of Alexander the Great.⁹⁴ This text, which has greatly influenced historians, men of letters and politicians, differs from the famous Secret of secrets in that it does not contain any exposés of the occult sciences, and it also diverges in relation to its western equivalent which is the Alexander Romance of Pseudo-Callisthenes because it focuses on the political dimensions of governance of the Empire, and leaves aside the legends that developed from the biography of the conqueror. It is for both these reasons that it was adopted as one of the main sources of political literature in Islam, and that it was a determining factor in creating the genre of mirrors for the princes (al-ādāb al-sulṭāniyya).⁹⁵

Aristotle presents himself in the Letters as a fervent partisan of a virtuous pambasileia, the defender of a universal and ecumenical State, uniting humankind under the authority of a just and benevolent king, which conflicts with his true political ideas centered on the city, and in general opposed to the idea of the royalty of a single person because it denies the concept of a politeia formed by citizens who are equal and who take turns to be governors and governed.⁹⁶ Here we find ourselves far from the negative views of barbarians in general, and Persians and Asians in particular (for example in Politics, I, 2, 1252b 8–10 and I, 6, 1255a 29–40 where Aristotle claims that barbarians are slaves by nature).⁹⁷ Of course, the Arab philosophers who studied the true doctrine of Aristotle took no interest in this corpus, no doubt because they thought it apocryphal, with the exception of Miskawayh and the pseudo-al-ʿĀmirī who quote from it frequently in the Eternal Wisdom and in the Happiness and how to Attain it. Some philosopher-physicians, fascinated by the array of maxims and aphorisms such as Ibn Hindū or Ibn Fātik, and men of letters such as Qudāma ibn Ǧaʿfar also frequented it, not to mention the authors of the mirrors for princes for whom certain passages of the Letters are heights of achievement condensing political wisdom expressed with great literary elegance. Although this text may have influenced the men of letters, historians and political thinkers of Islam, it clearly did not have a significant impact on the peripatetic philosophers. So where did this idea of universal government that underlies their political ideas come from?

In response, it is possible to maintain that dynastic government bringing together several nations (umam, pl of umma) was already at the heart of the political model established by Islam from the Umayyads and especially with the Abbasids. Considering the perfect government on a broader scale to that of the territorial limits of the city may therefore be interpreted as an effect of the culture of Islam and of the institutional model of the universal caliphate. The Letters from Aristotle to Alexander would in that case constitute only a further intellectual caution to support institutional practices already rooted in the societies of the Muslim world.

It is by taking account of these elements that one can understand the critique addressed by Averroes to Plato in the Commentary on the Republic where he takes charge of the discussion on the question of the number of guards needed by the city to tackle the question of its size and that of the government of several virtuous cities. He calls upon Aristotle as the authority defending the universality of good and the accessibility of all men to virtue, by deeming this thesis to be true and in accordance with the universal mission of Islam, as opposed to the opinion of Plato which remains limited to the restricted territorial representation of the good city.¹⁰¹ It is in the name of this same principle that he critiques, in his Commentary on the Nicomachean Ethics, the opinion of Islamic lawyers who adopted the principle of the holy war and refused peace between peoples. This critique shows he is a proponent of the need to mitigate the negative effects of the particular positive law (even if it is religious) via the universal natural law.¹⁰² This is the subject of a theorization based on Aristotle’s Rhetoric and more specifically, on the opposition between written and unwritten laws. The principal characteristics of the latter are generality and naturality; they are in the image of axioms, that is, we find them in ourselves, without knowing “when these laws were instituted or by whom”.¹⁰³ M. Aouad, in his commentary on this passage, rightly notes that Averroes has a particular interest in this pairing formed by written and unwritten laws and that he establishes the idea that the former (i.e the positive laws) are merely the particularization of the latter. “Averroes, suggests M. Aouad, comes to believe that certain written laws may be an application of unwritten laws”.¹⁰⁴ But natural unwritten laws (for example thanking a benefactor or filial piety) must also correct deviations from positive laws which may diverge from the spirit of justice and fairness, like the resistance of Antigone to the laws of Creon that were contrary to the dignity of his brother Polynices and respect for his body. The dual plan of the universality of the first intelligibles and of ethical principles therefore made Aristotle the defender of the unity of mankind, and the methodological tool making it possible to think of man coming together under one single political command.

8 Conclusion

Our work has shown that the political influence of Aristotle exerted on Arab philosophers is equally due to his strictly political ideas (contained in the Nicomachean Ethics and in the Rhetoric) as to the frequentation of his system, the defense of his method founded on the apodeixis, or the radicalization of certain theses that were powerful yet had not yet been much evidenced in his corpus (the doctrine of the separation of the intellect, the choice of his noetic as the guiding light of any investigation into Man, including politics, the assimilation of the First Mover to the creator God, to the Artisan, to the First Cause or to the Necessary Being). But, ultimately, was this political thinking by the Arab philosophers Aristotelian or not? The response to this question requires taking account of the particular nature of the corpus of each philosopher, something we have tried to emphasize throughout the various different developments. It also involves a critique of the labels that are both massive and reductive, of ‘Neoplatonist’, ‘Platonist’ and ‘Aristotelian’. One could say that al-Fārābī was a political thinker influenced by Neoplatonism because the theory of emanation is present in his cosmology and it affects his political thought. But how can we explain, in that case, the absence of the theory of the scale of sciences, fundamental in these movements, and which implies a gradation in the mastery of virtues and a to-ing and fro-ing between the practical sciences and the theoretical sciences, a mastery of mathematics before descending towards ethics and ascending towards the world of the intelligibles once the soul is purified and brought nearer to the divine?¹⁰⁵

Turning to the Aristotelian corpus as such, one may postulate that its influence was limited by the absence of reflection on the regimes and the politeia as Aristotle theorized it, But one may also go beyond the observation of a particular fact (the absence of the Politics) to realize that other biological texts (on the central role of the heart in the animal body) or disciplines a priori without any link to practical philosophy (logic) have had determining consequences on the representation of the perfect city, the characteristics of its leader, or how to educate its citizens. Even further, one may maintain that mastering the major lines of the Aristotelian project as a whole has led Averroes, al-Fārābī and Avempace to resolve, each in their own way, the tensions in the practical philosophy of Aristotle between the happiness of Man and the happiness of the citizen. For us, this point is the cornerstone of the political thinking of the Arab philosophers who believe, each according to their own viewpoint, that happiness lies in scientific knowledge, and the connection of Man with the source of the intelligibles which is the active Intellect. Political science which is “the philosophy of human things” in Aristotle has become simply “the philosophy of Man” in al-Fārābī.¹⁰⁶ The choice of these philosophers consisted in considering Aristotelian psychology as the ultimate guide for determining the supreme end of Man. But the consequence of this choice was that the autonomy of political science has been overtaken because the accomplishment of its potential which at the same time reveals a unification of the diversity and multiplicity that characterizes the Being cannot ignore the spiritual ends of Man.¹⁰⁷ Thanks to these readings which energize Aristotle’s texts and enrich them with fresh lines of interpretation emanating from the use of the Arabic language as the vehicle for expressing their thinking, the religious and civilizational context of Islam, or simply the genius of each author, the political Aristotle has on the one hand been deepened and on the other transfigured. This is particularly seen in the philosophy of religion developed by Miskawayh, Avicenna, al-Fārābī and Averroes. In one sense, one may claim that it is taken from Aristotle’s philosophy as it is inseparable from his views on written law and unwritten law, and the distinction between positive justice and equity. But what is also certain is that with this philosophy of religion which turns toward the question of the secularization of human happiness, that evaluates the status of philosophy in the city, and the conflicts between the philosophical doctrines and the revealed texts (concerning the creation or the eternity of the universe, and the fate of the human soul after death or the status of prophecy itself) we are already very far from the texts of Aristotle, and rather in an epistēmē that recalls the preoccupations of the modern Enlightenment.