Many scholarly questions have had the good fortune
not to be discussed outside scholarly circles. Others have been dragged into every
assembly and forum and handled by every group, thus giving them an altered aspect, making
the work of students and researchers difficult or even tending to throw them off the track
from the first. The questions of spirit and body and God and the world belong to the
latter group. Perhaps no one has not raised these questions for himself and somehow
resolved therefore himself, The first questions man, with his inquiring nature, asks
himself are What am I and What is this world I am in? Man must satisfy himself somehow
vis-i-vis these questions. Accordingly, everyone forms a kind of egology and world-view.
Because the question of spirit and body is one of these shopworn
questions, one which everyone has heard about from birth, first from nurse, mother, and
grandmother, and later from preachers, poets, and public speakers, everyone has
accumulated impressions and associations concerning the subject, along with a special way
of thinking about it. Therefore, many may be prepared to read that the spirit is a
mysterious, invisible being that, "providentially" hidden behind the veil of the
body, masking itself in it, and carrying out interventions more mysterious and irregular
than those ascribed to inn and ghouls from behind its palpable mass, accomplishes
everything from behind this outward, artificial, and borrowed curtain that is the body.
Much of our poetry immediately brings this picture to mind:
The spirit is a celestial bird, and the body is only an ephemeral cage
built for it through special causes. The spirit is a falcon dwelling in a lote-tree that
unexpectedly has come to lodge in the torturous alcove of the body: It is a king who has
chosen the hovel of the body for his casde and may grant more importance to this hovel
than to himself and who may cover its exterior with brocades and himself sit naked and
unadorned.
I do not mean to criticise the language of poetry, which is what it is
and could not be anything else. The language of poetry, like that of sermon and pulpit, is
different from the language of science and philosophy because its object is different. The
language of any discipline is a key made for that discipline. A key is useful only in that
lock for which it was designed.
Persons who have a compound personality speak in
more than one language. One who is both poet and philosopher speaks in the languages of
poetry and philosophy, which remain separate. For example, compare how and in what
language Avicenna discussed spirit, body, and the relation between them in his books of
philosophy (such as the Shifa' and the Isharat) on the one hand and in his
famous "'Ayniyya" qasida on the other, whose opening line is "It
descended to you from the highest Iocus, [And grew] filled with pride and refusal."
We must distinguish the languages of science and philosophy from the languages of poetry
and the pulpit so that we do not, like so many atheists and materialists, become faced
with grave and unpardonable errors.
In fact, philosophers have theories that correspond with what appears
in the language of poetry. For instance, Plato holds that the spirit is an eternal
substance preexistent to the body. When the body is ready, the spirit "descends"
from its level and is "attached" to the body. This theory is totally dualistic
in that it regards spirit and body as two separate and disjoined substances and sees their
relation as something accidental and nominal, like the relation of bird and nest or of
rider and mount. It recognises no substantial and natural connection representing a kind
of unity and essential connection between them.
But before long, Plato's student, Aristotle, demolished this theory.
Aristotle noted that Plato and his predecessors had focused on the aspect of duality and
contrast between spiritual phenomena and physical phenomena but ignored their unity and
interdependence. Aristotle noted that one cannot regard the interrelation and
interdependence of spirit and body as superficial, like that ofbird and nest or that of
rider and mount, but that the relation of spirit and body is certainly more profound and
natural. Aristotle regarded the relation of spirit and body as belonging to the species of
relation of the form to the matter in which it originates, with the difference that,
because the rational faculty is abstract, it is a form with matter, not a form in matter.
The idea that the spirit is an eternal substance in acm does not persist into
Aristotle's philosophy.
The spirit is not eternal; it is created in time. At first it is purely
potential. It acquires no sort of prior knowledge; it actualises all its knowledge in this
world. The same idea in a slightly different form is reflected in Avicenna. The duality,
separation, and alienness in Plato's philosophy has been largely obviated in the
philosophies of Aristotle and Avicenna, in which this matter has been based on the
well-known Aristotelian theories of hylomorphism and of generation and corruption.
Although Aristotle's theory is most noteworthy for its advantages over
its predecessor, especially for its rejection of the spirit-body duality and its advocacy
of a kind of real and substantial unity and interrelation of spirit and body, it
nonetheless is not devoid of major ambiguities and difficulties. These difficulties
pertain to the question of how the natural relation of matter and form is to be depicted
and to the question of generation and corruption. Further steps in the worlds of science
and philosophy were necessary if the curtain were to be lifted from over this mystery or
if the topic were even to be addressed in a rational and satisfactory way.
The precursors to this intellectual and scientific transformation
appeared in Europe and created a revolution in the fullest sense of the word. Revolution
threw out the good with the bad. All past foundations and structures were cast down at one
stroke. The revolutionaries designed a new scheme for everything. The famous French
philosopher, Descartes, articulated a new scheme of spirit-body dualism that in time
became the one scheme to accept, reject, or revise.
Descartes admitted three realities: God, the soul, and the body. In
conceiving that the soul has thought and intelligence but not dimension and the body has
dimension but not thought and intelligence, he came to believe that soul and body are
separate things. The objection raised, first by other Europeans, against Descartes's
theory is that he had considered only the aspects of duality, difference, and contrast
obtaining between spirit and body, but offered no explanation of how spirit and body,
which he says represent extremes of disparity and contrast, came to be conjoined. It is
important to consider how they connect and are united, what sort of relation obtains
between them.
Descartes's theory is in this respect a kind of regression, a reversion
to Plato's theory. We seem to be back to the story of the bird and the nest. Because
Descartes entertains conceptions of innate qualities and essences and so regards the soul
as a phenomenon in actu, his theory resembles Plato's. His theory falls
as far short as Plato's of explaining the relation between spirit and body.
This regression or reversion turned out to be very costly. The
essential and natural relation of body on the one hand and spirit or spiritual qualities
on the other is not something one can ignore; one cannot content oneself with noting their
discrepant and contrastive aspects. Intelligent people after Descartes sought to discover
the relation of these two entities. Modern philosophers laboured to discover what sort of
relation physical phenomena have with spiritual, and in the course of their labours highly
divergent schools and theories arose, marked by all kinds of excess. Some have even denied
all duality of spirit and body in regarding all psychical phenomena as normal and natural
properties of material compounds, and others have denied all such duality in regarding
body and matter as unreal, as a mere phantasmagoria displaying itself to the spirit. Still
others have wearied of the search and declared the subject beyond man's power to explore.
Although modern scholars and philosophers have gotten nowhere in
studying the identity of spiritual phenomena and the nature of the relation of spirit and
body, researchers in all fields, especially biology, physiology, and psychology, have had
tremendous and amazing results. They at times may not have noted the implications of their
findings for spiritual questions or for questions of the nature of the relation between
spirit and body, but their work has opened the way for study of these questions.
Among post-Avicennan Islamic philosophers, no original research into
this question was done directly, but enormous transformations and advances occurred in the
most general and basic questions of first philosophy, that is, the questions surrounding
being. These advances had an indirect but tremendously important effect on most
other philosophical questions, among them questions of motion and of the unity versus the
duality of spirit and body.
Mulla Sadra, who spearheaded this transformation in the approach to
questions of being, concluded from the new, excellent, and powerful principles he had
forged that, in addition to the overt, accidental, and sensible motions governing the
superficial phenomena of the world, there is a deep, substantial motion inaccessible to
the senses that is the principle of these overt and sensible motions. If one is to
postulate hylomorphism, one must postulate it only on the basis of this motion. The
appearance and formation of physical species are based on the law of motion, not on that
of generation and corruption.
The soul and the spirit arise in accordance with this law of motion.
The soul is formed within the matrix of physical matter. Matter has the capacity to
nurture an entity in its lap that is on the plane of the supernatural. No wall or membrane
exists between the natural and the supernatural, and there is nothing to prevent a
material being from transforming into an extramaterial being through a gradual evolution.
Neither Plato's nor Aristotle's conceptions of the source for the
formation of the soul and the nature of its relation to the body is correct. The nature of
the relation between life and matter, or between spirit and body, is more natural and more
substantial than they supposed. It is like the kind of relation between a stronger and
better developed stage of a thing to a weaker and less well developed stage of it. Or to
put it perhaps more aptly, it is like the relation of one dimension to the other
dimensions. That is, matter in its transformation and evolution expands in a new direction
additional to the three physical or spatial dimensions and to the temporal dimension by
which essential and substantial motion is quantified. This new direction is independent of
the other four, the spatiotemporal directions.
In calling this direction a dimension, I do not mean it is a kind of
extension or that it is susceptible to mental analysis, like other quantifiable. Rather, I
mean only that matter finds a new direction to expand into, one in which it wholly sheds
the quality of materiality.
We are now in a position to address this question: Are spiritual
properties the product of an admixture or a synthesis of material elements, like the other
properties that matter exhibits in isolation or in compound entities? Or does physical
matter, insofar as it is physical and material, lacks such properties and effects, such
that they appear only as matter evolves in its essence and substance, coming to have in
its essence a degree of being according to which it is extramaterial and extraphysical?
Spiritual properties would relate to that degree of being and reality. I now have no need
to confine our discussion to the human spirit and the psychical phenomena of man, as is
conventional. I can start lower and extend this discussion to vital phenomena and effects
as such.
The difference that can be allowed between mental effects and other
vital effects, that the one is abstract and the others not) is not at issue here. What
concerns us is the idea that the spirit is not a property or effect of matter, but a
substantial entelechy that appears for matter and is in turn the source for effects more
numerous and various than those of matter.3 This is true of all life. Whatever
the reality of life, whether or not it is possible for us to perceive the inner reality
and core of life, those beings we call living or animate, the plants and animals, have
activities and effects not witnessed in other, dead or inanimate, beings.
Beings of this class have the property of self-preservation and place
themselves at a remove from the effects of environmental factors. They use a wholly
internal power to equip themselves for life ins particular environment and so array their
internal defences as to be able to combat factors in that environment or to use them to
further their survival in it.
A living being has the property of adaptation to the environment, which
arises from its internal processes. An inanimate being, however, has no such property, and
if it is placed in an environment containing factors destructive to it, it can exhibit no
activity oriented to its survival and in fact cannot combat environmental factors. For
example, a living being has the property of acclimation. if it encounters a stressful
external factor, at first it is heavily affected and distressed, and its equilibrium is
lost; but it gradually acclimates and acquires a sort of immunity to the external factor.
This immunity is an effect of internal functions and of the property of
adaptation to the environment, which it acquires to the extent of its capacity. Ifs plant,
an animal, or even a member of an animal's body is placed in an environment wherein it
contacts something injurious, something that poses a threat to its equilibrium and
survival, it gradually arms itself to resist that factor in that environment. When a human
hand that is soft and fine is first faced with carrying a hard and rough material such as
brick, it is unable to stand up, but gradually that hand acclimates; that is, an internal
power in its tissues brings about changes that enable it to resist the new factor.
A living being has the power of assimilation. Under the influence of an
internal factor, it automatically draws external materials to itself and, through special
processes of decomposition and resynthesis, uses them for its own survival. However, this
property does not exist in inanimate beings.
Wherever living beings and organic factors appear, they gradually grow,
renew themselves, and evolve. They augment their power until they are ready to reproduce;
thereafter they wane and disappear, having given perpetuity to their existence in their
progeny.
Whenever life appears, it predominates over environmental conditions
and triumphs over the lifeless elements of nature. It alters nature's compounds and makes
of them a new synthesis. Life is designer, modeller, engineer, and artist, and it evolves
in these very capacities. Life has goals and makes choices. It knows its way and its
object. It slowly follows the road it adopted millions of years ago, toward a definite
object and destination that will be unattainable save at the utmost degree of perfection.
All these properties exist in living beings and not in inanimate
beings. In the words of A. Cressy Morrison, "Matter has no initiative, but life
brings into being marvellous new designs and structures."4 Here we
perceive fully how life itself is a special force, a separate entelechy, and an added
process that appears in matter and that exhibits various further processes and effects.
Invaluable research has been carried out in the area of life and the
properties of living beings, research that makes quite plain the substantive reality of
the vital force. Many researchers have perceived this truth and referred to this
substantive reality of the vital force in their work. They have noted that this
vital force is an extramaterial force in nature and that biotic phenomena are the effect
of this force and not simply of the synthesis, the addition, subtraction, and combination,
of material constituents.
These latter processes are a necessary but not sufficient condition for
the emergence of life. Then there were those like the famous biologist, Lamarck, who
denied the substantive reality of the vital force and formally declared that living nature
must be studied from the standpoint of mechanics. What impelled them to deny the
substantive reality of the vital force was their equation of such a reality with a
duality, an existence for the vital force separate from matter and its effects. They
supposed that if the vital force had a substantive reality, this fact would entail its
being independent of the environment and environmental factors, its being the same in all
environments, its unsusceptibility to influence by environmental factors, and its
independence of the physicochemical processes of the body. Scientific observations have
demonstrated the contrary in each instance. Lamarck said life is nothing but a physical
quality. All the qualities of life depend on physical or chemical causes and originate in
the organism's structure. Lamarck evidently supposed that if the vital force had
substantive reality, this fact would necessitate its being independent of physicochemical
causes and its not having its origin in the organism's material structure.
Descartes's dualistic theory, his regression or reversion to Plato's
flicory, wound up being very costly because it obliged scientists to conclude that
whenever they contemplated a substantive reality for the vital force, they were denying
the substantial and essential connection of life and body and were thinking of them as two
opposing poles. Descartes himself, in arriving at this dualism of body characterised by
dimension and soul characterised by thought and intelligence and in positing a deep gulf
between the two, was compelled to deny life as a substantive force other-than-human
beings. Incredibly, he regarded the structure of all animals except man-as purely
mechanical and denied all perception and feeling in animals. He claimed animals have no
perception, no feeling, no pleasure, no pain. When they move or call out, this behaviour
does not arise from feeling or will. These machines have been so constructed as to display
these effects at these times, whereas we imagine that they result from feeling or will.
Modern scientific research supports the theory of the substantive
reality of the vital force. The theory of evolution of species further supports the
concept of the vital force and its governance of and predominance over matter and the
inanimate forces of matter. Darwin, the original champion of this theory, did not seek to
demonstrate the substantive reality of the vital force but rather at first based his work
on natural selection, which he saw as the result of random, undirected changes in nature.
But as he inquired closely into the secret of evolutionary advance and the ordered
evolution of species, he was obliged, as he says, "to admit a character for living
nature. ' He spontaneously arrived at this conclusion, to such a degree that some of his
contemporaries said to him, "You speak of natural selection as if it were an active
force or a supernatural power."
Those who study the psychical aspects of man, without intending to show
the substantive reality of human life or to derive a philosophical conclusion from their
researches, have arrived at such a conclusion. Freud, the psychologist and founder of
psychoanalysis, set off a revolution in psychology. He concluded from his studies and
clinical work that the researches of the physiologists and the anatomical studies of the
brain with its convolutions constituted an inadequate approach to mental illness. He
discerned a hidden system of intelligence relative to which man's overt and everyday
intelligence and self-awareness are superficial. He noted that the diseases of the spirit
that arise from complexes themselves have a substantive reality and give rise to organic
illnesses. One must approach the treatment of these illnesses spiritually and resolve
these complexes, and thus even their physical symptoms will often be alleviated.
The treatment of physical illnesses by spiritual means and even the
treatment of some organic diseases by spiritual means represent no new discovery-such
physicians as Muhammad ibn Zakariya Razi and Avicenna used it-but today this technique has
found extraordinary breadth of application. It wholly affirms the substantive
reality of life and especially of the spirit. But what is noteworthy in Freudianism is the
discovery of the hidden mind and also of a range of complexes. Formerly, moral and
physical afflictions were explained simply as a range of engrams ('adat). An engram is a
state resulting from the repetition ofan act and is said to be a quasimaterial process.
When we first bend a straight stick, it returns, but not quite fully.
After we repeat this process many times, the stick remains bent. An engram was said to be
something similar, something like the folding of a sheet of paper. Through repetition of
an act, permanent effects, called moral virtues or sins, would be left on the furrows of
the brain. But the theories of a hidden mind and of complexes demonstrated that the
dynamics of morality involve quite different processes.
Freud did not seek by his theory to demonstrate the substantive reality
of the vital force or life's governance of matter. Rather, where he moves from the area of
scientific researches in which he shows such mastery to the area of philosophical
inference, in which he shows no such competence, he arrives at certain objectionable
theories unworthy of his stature. This does not detract from the value of his scientific
researches.
Some of Freud's students, such as Jung, wholly disagreed with their
master over the method of deriving philosophical conclusions from psychological theories.
They did much to throw light on the substantive reality of the vital force in their
theories; they imparted a "supernatural" dimension to Freud's theory.
What is most difficult here is not to see the difference between body
and psyche or between matter and life. Even before the European researchers provided such
clear evidence for the substantive reality of the vital force, superficial observation
revealed these differences plainly enough. What is more difficult is to arrive at a sound
conception of the relation of body and psyche. This difficulty has led many scholars to
withhold belief from the substantive reality of the vital force. This difficulty has been
resolved in the finest way in the philosophy of Mulla Sadra.
The question of the substantive reality of the vital force has a
supernatural aspect. If life were an effect and property of matter, it would have no such
aspect, in that it would exist as a latent effect of matter in the elemental state or in
compounds. When a living organism appears, nothing would actually be created; no entelechy
would be created in matter. But according to the theory of the substantive reality of the
vital force, matter in its essence lacks life; life is created and added when a capacity
appears in matter. In other words, matter becomes alive in the course of its movement
toward perfection; it gains an entelechy that it had lacked. In consequence, it gains
effects and modes of activity that it had lacked. Therefore, the being that comes alive
actually has been created.
Although inanimate matter in the elemental state does not have the
property of life, what is there to prevent this property from emerging in consequence of
the interaction of these material constituents? When several material or extrarmaterial
constituents are compounded and interact, each yields some of its effects to the others
and receives some of the others' effects. An intermediate temper results. It is absurd
that through the synthesis of several constituents an effect should appear other than the
combined effects of the constituents or a quality intermediate to their effects, unless
the synthesis of these constituents makes it possible for a faculty or a force higher than
those of any of these constituents to come into being as a substantial entelechy and to
impart a real unity to these constituents.
Therefore, if it is asked what there is to prevent
the property of life from appearing in consequence of the synthesis and interaction of
material constituents, this question calls for further clarification. If it is meant that,
in consequence of the interaction of material constituents, the capacity appears for a
substantive force, the vital force, and so this force does come into being, and with it
the properties of life, this is correct. But if it is meant that, in the absence of a
vital force, properties of life appear inconsistent with the properties of any of life's
constituents, this is absurd and impossible.
Another hypothesis might be proposed. Although matter lacks life in its
essence and life is a force superior to material and inanimate forces-just as) according
to scientific research, there is in the physical universe a certain fixed quantity of
energy and the formation and disappearance of inanimate entities does not constitute
creation but rather consists of a set of coalescences and dispersals of material
constituents and transfers of energy-so we may posit a special mode of energy for life,
such that, like other forces, vital forces would not be created. Rather, through these
coalescences and dispersals and transfers of energy, they would be concentrated in certain
instances, Thus, animation would not involve creation.
The concept of vital energy must be clarified. Is this energy inanimate
or animate in its essence? If it is animate, does an entity have life? Is life a thing
apart from the entity, which has been compounded or conjoined with it? Or is this entity
life itself? If the energy is animate or inanimate, there is no difference between vital
energy and other energies in respect to this question (of how animacy is to be explained
and how this energy produces life), in that either this energy is not alive at all (the
first hypothesis) or the agent of life is a thing external and added to the entity's
essence. If this entity is life itself, an abstract being (life, or the vital force) has
descended a level and, preserving its effects, has become matter, which is absurd. What
the philosophers call "descent" when they say that nature and matter have
descended from the supernatural is not this transfer and transduction of energies.
If we deny that there is creation in inanimate matter but hold that the
appearance of these entities is nothing more than the coalescence and dispersal of
material constituents and the transfer of energies, we are saying something scientists
agree is incorrect in reference to animate beings. The character of life is such that one
cannot hypothesize that there is some certain fixed quantity of it; one cannot regard the
appearance of animate beings as a transfer of life from one locus to another, as, in
truth, a kind of transmigration. The phenomenon of life cannot be assigned acertain fixed
quantity; it has been on the increase since the day it appeared on earth. If at times much
life has perished in a mass eninction, this power did not concentrate elsewhere. Life and
death are a kind of expansion and contraction, but an expansion and contraction arising
from above the plane of natural being.
They constitute an emanation coming from the unseen and returning to
the unseen. As Oswald Kolpe says in criticism of materialism:
Materialism stands in contradiction ton fundamental law of modern
natural science, the law of the conservation of energy; according to which the sum of
energy in the universe always remains constant, and the changes that take place all about
us are simply changes in the distribution of energy, and involve an absolutely uniform
transformation or exchange. The law evidently implies that the series of
"physical" processes is a closed chain, in which there is no place for a new
kind of phenomenon: the "psychical" or "mental." Brain processes,
e.g., despite their extreme complexity, must be included in the circle of causes and
effects, and all the changes produced in the brain substance by outside stimulus conceived
of as propagated and diffused in a purely chemical or physical way. A theory of this
universal validity leaves the mental side of things "all in the air"; for how
the secondary effect of mentality can be produced without any the least loss of energy
upon the physical side, is difficult to say. The only logical thing to do is to
co-ordinate mental processes, as representing a special form of energy, with the ordinary
chemical, electrical, thermal and mechanical energy, and to assume that the same uniform
relation of transformation and exchange obtains between them as between the various
"physical" energies. But apart from the fact that this view is nowhere
mentioned, still less worked out in any detail, in materialistic literature, there are
several objections to it upon general grounds, all leading to the same conclusion, that
the idea of energy as defined by natural science is inapplicable to mental processes.
A. Cressy Morrison says:
Today no place remains for the ancient Democritean idea that the
universe is a purely mechanical one and that creation consists solely in the coalescence
and dispersal, or the combination and synthesis, of particles.
Scientific research has thoroughly deflated the materialists' hubris.
No longer may someone say, as did Descartes and others, give me matter and motion, and I
will construct a universe. The warp and woof of the universe have too many threads for
being to be confined to matter and the sensible and accidental motion of matter.