Understanding Authoritarianism as a Dynamic Category of Practice

Understanding Authoritarianism as a Dynamic Category of Practice:
Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s Legacy for the History of Political Thought.
Jennifer A. London
The Democratic Knowledge Project
IAS, Princeton
Very Rough Draft. Please Do Not Cite or Circulate. Comments Welcome:
[email protected]
To be presented at the AALIMS Conference
April 12, 2014
Princeton, University
In several of her writings, Lisa Anderson stresses epistemological problems political
scientists face when studying the Middle East today. The principle impediments to productive
research on the region, she argues, are the American political scientist’s emphases on the study of
democracy and on western ideals that skew scholarship on non-democratic contexts.1 Anderson
urges political scientists to take authoritarianism seriously and to study its attributes and its nuances
on its own terms, to better analyze the intricacies of Middle Eastern contexts. She laments the
dearth of scholarship on authoritarian regimes and, particularly, the absence of social-scientific
typologies of non-democratic systems. Anderson calls attention to some work that has been done to
develop typologies for studying non-democratic contexts, notably Juan Linz’ Totalitarian and
Authoritarian Regimes.2 Yet, Anderson reminds her audience that more work must be done to keep
political scientists from looking at the Middle East from Western democratic glasses.3
1
See Lisa Anderson, “Searching Where the Light Shines: Studying Democratization in the Middle
East,” Annual Review of Political Science 9 (2006): 189-214. Anderson also addresses these
concerns in a more recent public lecture “Democracy, Authoritarianism and Regime Change in the
Arab World,” (delivered at the Middle East Center Public Lecture at the London School of
Economics and Political Science, London, July 13, 2011). This lecture is accessible online:
http://www.lse.ac.uk/publicEvents/pdf/20110713%20Lisa%20AndersonTranscript.pdf
Anderson also mentions these concerns in her article “Absolutism and the Resilience of Monarchy
in the Middle East,” Political Science Quarterly 106 (1991): 1-15. Likewise, Amaney Jamal’s work
on civil society in Palestine cautions scholars about blithely associating Western democratic
institutions, such as civil society, with democracy. Jamal reveals contexts in which civic
participation actually buttresses non-democratic forms of government. See Amaney Jamal, Barriers
to Democracy: the Other Side of Social Capital (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2007).
Such analysis reveals ways that democratic conceptions and institutions can distort a scholar’s
understandings of diverse political contexts.
2
See Juan Linz, Totalitarian and Authoritarian Regimes (Boulder: Lynne Rienner, 2000).
3
Anderson’s criticisms of the democratic focus of conversations in comparative politics apply to
the subfield of political theory as well. In political theory we have an entire subfield devoted to
“democratic theory” but there is no such subfield for “non-democratic thought.” There is a growing
subfield in political theory devoted to “comparative political theory,” which seeks to integrate
scholarship on non-western texts, yet this field is not localized to the study of a particular regime
type or form of government.
1
While Anderson’s concerns about orientalism and about projecting democratic paradigms
onto the study of the Middle East are well-taken, they inspire me to pose tougher questions about
what the grounds for these typologies should be built from. Two dominant modes of studying
authoritarianism in comparative politics today are grounded in Weberian sociology and rational
choice theory.4 To the best of my knowledge, however, comparativists have not developed a
theoretical understanding of authoritarian rule in Middle Eastern contexts that is grounded in the
writings of Middle Eastern authors themselves. Analyzing these models in their own terms, and
exploring the contexts in which they were articulated, would help us remember that these models
were created to address real, human concerns that their authors sought to address. In the Early
Abbasid period (around 750 C.E.), for instance, Persian secretaries translated models of rule from
middle-Persian into Arabic, to recover aspects of their cultural heritage and to introduce ancient
models of stability at a time of revolutionary flux.
I offer a first such attempt to introduce a model of authoritarian rule that an early Arabic
author named Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ translated into his language from a pre-Islamic context. Ibn alMuqaffa‘ was a secretary at the end of the Umayyad and beginning of the Abbasid periods. While
there were already Arabic discussions on the caliph’s vast political authority and on the peoples’
obligation to obey him by the end of the Umayyad period, Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ develops a model of
authoritarian rule as a political program, which identifies how the caliph should shape the law and
set people into particular social ranks to restore political order. Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ introduces these
ideas about an authoritarian system at a moment when the Umayyads had already been calling their
4
Stephen Haber, “Authoritarian Government” in Barry Weingast and Donald Wittman, eds., The
Oxford Handbook of Political Economy (Oxford: Oxford UP, 2008).
2
caliph “deputy of God” (or khalīfat Allāh),5 when the Umayyad ruler al-Walīd II (who ruled from
743-744 C.E.) had already called for people’s unconditional obedience to him,6 and, when the
secretary ‘Abd al-Ḥamīd al-Kātib was describing a Muslim’s obedience to the Umayyad caliphs as
a matter essential for their salvation in this world and the next.7 Such ideas were present in the
context in which Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ asserts that people owe their caliph complete obedience and that
they can disobey him only if he forbids a fundamental Islamic obligation (such as prayer or the
pilgrimage) or violates what God has commanded or prohibited.8 It is in this context that Ibn alMuqaffa‘ translates pre-Islamic works that describe how such a powerful ruler could institutionalize
his authority into a particular political system. Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ translates the model for this system
5
See P. Crone and M. Hinds God’s Rule (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003), 5. The
authors mention that the terms “trustee of God,” “shepherd of God” and “lieutenant of God” were
also in use at this time. Crone and Hinds here cite M. Watt’s “God’s Caliph” in C. E. Bosworth ed.,
Quranic interpretations and Umayyad Claims Iran and Islam (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University
Press, 1971), 571.
6
See the letter of the Umayyad caliph al-Walīd II in the second appendix to Crone and Hinds’
God’s Rule, 116-126.
7
See ‘Abd al-Ḥamīd’s “Letter on Obedience” (letter seventeen) in Iḥsān ‘Abbas (ed.)‘Abd alḤamīd ibn Yaḥya al-Kātib wa mā tabaqqā min rasā’ilihi wa rasā’il Sālim Abī’l-‘Alā’ (‘Ammān:
Dār al-Sharq, 1988), 211-212. Letter seventeen is written as a sort of theological treatise on ṭā‘a – a
term for obedience to God, which is contrasted with ma’ṣiyya or disobedience to God. ‘Abd alḤamīd introduces the signs of obedience (and the paths to disobedience) as central tenets of Islam.
Obedience to the Umayyad caliphs is here equated with obedience to Allah, which is here
synonymous with doing good, while disobedience is an evil act or sin.
8
See Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s Letter on Companionship or Risāla fī al-Ṣaḥāba in M. Kurd Alī ed. Risā’il
al-Bulaghā (Cairo: Dār al-Kutub al-‘Arabiyyah al-Kubrā, 1913), 122. From here on, I will refer to
this Arabic edition of this letter as the Letter on Companionship. While I rely on my own reading
and translation of Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s Letter, I thank Elizabeth Urban for her help with the Arabic in
this extraordinarily complex text. Elizabeth’s own translation of this letter is part of a manuscript
we have written on Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ that is currently under review. For an account of the
significance of these commands and prohibitions for Islamic thought see Michael Cook’s
Commanding Right and Forbidding Wrong in Islamic Thought (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 2006).
3
from pre-Islamic sources and he seeks to render it compatible with Arabic concepts and political
concerns of his day.9
While authoritarianism is a system of governance named in the nineteenth century, typically
associated with the rise of communism, its principles are germane to many ancient and medieval
contexts. In this article, I use the term authoritarian to connote a system of governance in which a
ruler commands strict obedience from above and builds a particular institutional and legal apparatus
to maintain social order. I urge us to look for precursors to current authoritarian systems of rule in
earlier sources, to see that such systems are not entrenched in a particular religion or culture, but
span virtually all civilizations to date. My goal is certainly not to argue that Ibn al-Muqaffa‘
translated an immutable model into Arabic that has endured for centuries, and that therefore his
work should be considered the basis for social scientific understandings of Middle Eastern
governance trans-historically and trans-contextually. Rather, I suggest that Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s
writings show us one form of rule that later Persian and Arabic authors would continue to invoke10
and transform for many centuries.11 In fact, an insight one gleans from reading Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s
9
Such a perspective differs from arguments (such as Leila Ahmed’s) that suggest that culture, and
not religion, in the Abbasid period is to blame for the construction of the oppressive political system
(in Ahmed’s case, she is most interested in the oppressive effects on women). See, for instance,
Leila Ahmed Women and Gender in Islam: Historical Roots of a Modern Debate (New Haven:
Yale University Press,1992). I seek to blame neither culture nor religion. Rather, I seek merely to
highlight the socially constructed nature of oppressive systems of rule by highlighting the rhetorical
work it has taken theorists to translate and legitimize authoritarian theories of rule into their
contexts.
10
We find, for instance, eleventh-century versions of Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s model of rule in the Ziyarid
ruler Kaī Kā’ūs Ibn Iskandār’s work of political advice for his son and in the work of advice that the
Saljuq minister Niẓām al-Mulk writes for his ruler Malikshāh.
11
Barbara Geddes emphasizes the theoretical difficulty one confronts when seeking to model
autocracy, given the great variation across different autocratic systems of rule. See her article
“What do we Know About Democratization After Twenty Years” Annual Review of Political
Science 2 (1999): 115-123. I believe that exploring the diverse theories authors advance in different
intellectual traditions would help us get a handle on crucial aspects of similarity and difference
4
works, and from seeing the ways he transforms a pre-Islamic model of authoritarian rule into an
Arabic model, is that authoritarianism is a dynamic category of practice, as grounded in the Quran
as it is in Zoroastrian doctrines, in St. Augustine’s Christian City of God or even in Plato’s
Republic.
There are critical implications of viewing authoritarianism as a dynamic category of
practice. Just as Rogers Brubaker highlights problems with substantialist treatments of nations as
real entities, treatments that mistake “categories of practice” for “categories of analysis,”12 I draw
attention to problems with treatments of authoritarian polities as essential entities. Such treatments
of authoritarian polities divorce scholarly conversations between theorists and comparativists, who
could together discern how authoritarian models have been constructed. I hope such conversations
will begin to isolate how authoritarian models have been constructed. Such analysis of the social
construction of authoritarianism should not seek to identify a single author in a given context as the
founder of authoritarian rule, but rather should consider existing ideas and earlier influences a given
author draws upon to advocate for authoritarianism. Essential conceptions also analytically lump
together authoritarian rulers and other individuals, who might yearn for alternative political futures.
My work, which introduces an early Arabic example of a model of authoritarian rule, urges us to
think more carefully about who drafted these models into particular traditions and how such
translations responded to a particular author’s goals—goals that often ran counter to those of other
members of their population.13
between these systems of rule and to better understand how authors associate these models with
particular cultural and religious attributes.
12
See Rogers Brubaker’s Nationalism Reframed (New York: Cambridge UP, 1996).
13
These theories represent the ideals their authors sought to inscribe into their political systems, and
that aren’t descriptive accounts of the political contexts the authors inhabited. See Parveneh
Pourshariati who attempts to recover a clearer picture of the historical context in which this letter
5
Perhaps most importantly, when we closely read Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s writings, we see the
great rhetorical work it took to translate an authoritarianism system into an Arabic and Islamic
tradition, and we can thereby further debunk misguided claims that authoritarian rule emanates from
Islam. Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s writings refute claims, such as Bernard Lewis’, that authoritarianism
“derive(s) from the very nature of Islamic society, tradition and thought”14—for, Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s
writings suggest that authoritarianism preceded Islam and was translated into Arabic.15 Such a claim
about authoritarianism as a category of practice does not address the question of whether the
religion of Islam lends itself to governance from above. Rather, my inquiry precedes such an
investigation. I show how a particular Persian translator used his knowledge of pre-Islamic
traditions to craft a theory of an authoritarian system in an Arabic and Islamic context.
Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s writings do shed light on the rich, contested meanings of terms like
“Islamic political thought” and “Islam.” Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ himself embodied diverse cultural
attributes of an Early Islamic existence – bearing a pre-Islamic, Persian heritage, being a convert
from Zoroastrianism to Islam, existing as an intellectual elite and a lowly client to an Arabian tribe.
For this reason, Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s writings reflect the multicultural roots of early Arabic sources,
which integrate pre-Islamic and Islamic ideas, which precede sectarian debates between Sunni and
was written. Decline and Fall of the Sasanian Empire: the Sasanian-Parthian Confederacy and the
Arab Conquest of Iran (New York: I.B. Tauris & Co., 2009).
14
See, for instance, Bernard Lewis’ essay “Islam and Communism” International Affairs 30:1
(1954): 7.
15
Such readings of Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s writings also challenge a Huntintonian perspective that
Islamic religion is the sin qua non of a civilization antithetical to that of the Christian West—for Ibn
al-Muqaffa‘’s translations and transformations of pre-Islamic autocratic models suggest common
Western and Near Eastern conceptions of governance that were institutionalized into a Christian
“city of God” by Roman writers and into a Zoroastrian “Circle of Justice” by Persian, Sasanian
writers. That is, Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s writings show us how various different “civilizations,” in
Huntington’s understanding of the term, shared common notions of social order, governance and
political equilibrium, and so are not necessarily antithetical in political terms.
6
Shi’ite and which preceded a clear codification of Islamic law. For these reasons, Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s
writings open up conversations on how political theories of authoritarian rule entered into an
Islamic context. In this way, Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s works do a wonderful job of reminding Western
theorists that Arabic thought and Islamic thought are not monolithic entities.
In what follows, I will analyze a particular letter Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ wrote and consider how he
develops an Arabic model of authoritarian rule within it. First, I will analyze an ancient Persian,
Sasanian document that Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ translates into Arabic called the Letter of Tansar. The
Sasanian dynasty was the last Persian dynasty before the rise of Islam. It lasted from 224-651 C.E.
In my reading of the Letter of Tansar, I call attention to the ideal vision of authoritarian rule it
presents. Next, I analyze Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s Letter on Companionship, to show how Ibn al-Muqaffa‘
adapts and transforms the pre-Islamic model of rule in the Letter of Tansar to advocate for his view
of how to reform the Abbasid dynasty. Last, I will consider Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s legacy for the history
of political thought, urging political theorists and comparativists to work together to respond to
Andersen’s call to theorize unique attributes of authoritarian polities and to explore how
authoritarian theories have been constructed by writers across vast stretches of time and space.
The Letter of Tansar
Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ is well known for translating The Letter of Tansar into Arabic in the eighth
century C.E. His translation of this work, along with others he imports into Arabic from middlePersian (e.g. the Letter on the Crown, the Testament of Ardashir), introduce Arabic readers to his
esteemed vision of Sasanian Iran—a society Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ esteems for its enduring legacy, vast
empire and rigid system of social hierarchy, which is held in place by a divinely inspired King of
7
kings.16 This ruler, acting as the Zoroastrian God’s hand, is invested with God’s wisdom and glory
(farr) to restore the world’s natural, social harmony from anarchy.
The ancient Persian conception of divine investiture, alluded to in The Letter of Tansar, is
perhaps best represented in the investiture scene Ardashir I, the founder of the Sasanian dynasty,
commissioned at Naqsh-e Rustam.
Investiture Scene of Ardashir at Naqsh-e Rustam17
The Zoroastrian God Ahura Mazda is here represented in human form on a horse crushing
the Zoroastrian God of darkness or the Lie, Angra Mainyu.18 In Zoroastrianism, the Lie is contrasted
with Ahura Mazda who represents the Good and the Truth. King Ardashir I here receives a diadem
16
While Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ is famous for translating this document from middle-Persian into Arabic,
his Arabic version is now lost. Current editions of this text are based upon a thirteenth-century
translation of Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s text into new Persian, by Muḥammad ibn al-Ḥasan ibn Isfandiyār,
and upon passages that Mas‘ūdī and al-Bīrūnī include in their Arabic writings. See Mary Boyce
trans., The Letter of Tansar, M. Minovi ed. (Rome: Istituto Italiano per il Medio ed Estremo
Oriente, 1968) 2-3. In this article, I rely on Boyce’s English translation of this document.
17
Thanks very much to John Woods for sharing this photograph.
18
I rely mostly on V.G. Lukonin’s analysis of this inscription in his article “Political, Social and
Administrative Institutions” in the Cambridge History of Iran: Seleucid Parthian and Sasanian
Periods, E. Yarshater ed., Volume 3 (2) (Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1983): 695.
8
from Ahura Mazda.19 According to Touraj Daryaee, Ahura Mazda appears on a horse on our right
and faces the king Ardashir, who is on a horse standing above the body of the last Parthian king,
Ardawan. This juxtaposition of Ardashir and Ahura Mazda, joined by this diadem, symbolizes the
divine origin of the king’s authority. It depicts Ardashir as the Good and the Truth, who will guide
the people of Iran. It is significant that this image depicts Ardashir as the human representative of
the supreme deity and not as a God in his own right.20 He is a human ruler, blessed with good
fortune at a particular historic moment, whose wisdom and glory can be retracted at any time.
According to Zoroastrian belief, royal glory (or farr) was what marked the king for right rule.21
Perhaps for this reason, Ardashir’s founding myth states that he is chosen by the gods who bestow
divine light or farr upon him.22
In The Letter of Tansar, Tansar (chief priest of the Sasanian king Ardashir I, who ruled from
224-40 C.E.) responds to criticisms against the king levied by the king of Tabaristan, who does not
wish to pay allegiance to Ardashir as the King of kings.23 It is in this context that Tansar depicts his
ruler, Ardashir I, as the Zoroastrian King of kings invested with God’s wisdom to restore Iran to its
19
See Daryaee’s Sasanian Iran (224-651): Portrait of a Late Antique Empire (Costa Mesa: Mazda
Publishers, 2008), 15. Scholars, such as Georgina Herrmann and Vesta Curtis, support the view that
Ardashir appears on our left, because he is wearing a headpiece, which he is known to have
developed for himself. This headpiece appears on Ardashir’s gold and silver coinage. See
Hermann and Curtis’ argument in an online article on “Sasanian rock reliefs,” published by the
“Circle of Ancient Iranian Studies”: http://www.cais-soas.com/CAIS/Art/sasanian_rock_relief.htm
20
See V. Lukonin “Political, Social and Administrative Institutions: Taxes and Trade” in
Cambridge History of Iran, vol. 3, 1: The Seleucid, Parthian and Sasanian Periods, ed. E. Yarshater
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983), 695.
21
See Jamsheed Choksky’s “Sacral Kingship in Sasanian Iran,” in which Choksky cites the
Denkard 290.20-291.8, 338.14-22. This article is published online by the “Circle of Ancient Iranian
Studies”: http://www.cais-soas.com/CAIS/History/Sasanian/sacral_kingship.htm
22
See “The Book of Feats of Emperor Ardeshir, Son of Papak,” the legendary story of the founder
of the Sasanian dynasty 17.6-19.9, cited in Jamsheed Choksky’s “Sacral Kingship in Sasanian Iran.”
23
There is a debate about when this document was written in the Sasanian period. While some,
such as Christensen, think it was written in the later Sasanian period, others, such as Mary Boyce,
show some information in the document that pertains to early Sasanian period.
9
natural harmony. This integration of Zoroastrian doctrine with right rule is perhaps the most famous
aspect of Ardashir’s legacy, for Ardashir made Zoroastrianism the religion of the Sasanian state.
Tansar here asserts the natural and even biological integration of religion and politics in this
context, when he writes “church and state were born of the one womb, joined together and never to
be sundered.”24 Tansar also depicts Ardashir as a the requisite religious guide for his people,
explaining “…they had need of a ruler of understanding; for till religion is interpreted by
understanding it has no firm foundation.”25 This view of the ruler as superior in his understanding of
religious doctrine, who can orient the people’s understanding of the law, is one Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ will
develop in his own writings.
In The Letter of Tansar, Tansar depicts Ardashir’s clearest role as a Zoroastrian guide to
divide the people into four, “natural,” Zoroastrian estates. Tansar explains that “Zoroastrian religion
dictates that men are divided into four estates and at their head is the king.”26 These classes consist
of the clergy; the military; scribes; and artisans and tillers of the land. “It is through these four
estates that humanity will prosper as long as it endures.”27 This rigid form of social organization is
to be supported by an absence of social mobility. Tansar explains, “Assuredly there shall be no
passing from one to another unless in the character of one of us outstanding capacity is found.”28
In this letter, Tansar depicts Ardashir’s rise to power as a salvation narrative in which he has
restored the world from a chaotic one, devoid of Zoroastrian rank and characterized by sedition and
depravity, to an orderly, harmonious social system that engenders success and prosperity. Tansar
writes,
24
See Mary Boyce’s translation, The Letter of Tansar, 4.
The Letter of Tansar, p. 37.
26
Ibid., pp. 37-38.
27
Ibid., pp. 38.
28
Ibid., p. 38. Boyce calls attention to a place in the Testament of Ardashir, in which Ardashir uses
even stronger language and says there will be absolutely no passing from one estate to another.
25
10
When…men fell upon evil days, under a reign that did not hold fast to the welfare of
the world…Violence became open and men assailed one another over variance of
rank and opinion, till livelihood and faith were lost to all, and those shaped like men
took on the character of demons and the nature of beasts…a people appeared not
enhanced by nobleness or skill or achievement not possessed of ancestral lands;
indifferent to personal worth and lineage and also to craft and calling; lacking all
discretion, ignorant of any trade, fit only to play the part of informers and evildoers…By these means they gained a livelihood and reached the pinnacle of
prosperity and amassed fortunes. The King of kings (Ardashir) through his pure
intelligence and surpassing excellence caused these four estates, which had fallen
away, to be restored, and brought back each to its own place and point of departure.
He kept each man in his own station, and forbade any to meddle with a calling other
than that for which it has pleased God…to create him. By his hand divine
providence had opened for humanity a door unknown to men in ancient days.29
This account of the turn from an anarchic, immoral world to an orderly Zoroastrian one, is
reminiscent of other ancient Persian narratives, in which a ruler inspired with God’s farr restores
the natural harmony of the universe.30 The story of the king Jamshid in the Persian Poet Firdowsi’s
Book of Kings (written around 1000 C.E. but invoking and re-introducing ancient, pre-Sasanian,
Persian sources) exemplifies the ideal of a king divinely inspired with farr who orders the world
according to Zoroastrian religion. Imperial farr belonged to the legendary Persian king Jamshid.
Because of it,
The world submitted to him; quarrels were laid to rest, and all demons, birds and
fairies obeyed Jamshid’s commands. The royal throne shone with his luster, and the
wealth of the world increased.31
Jamshid trained the people in the arts of war, spinning, weaving, dyeing and sewing, and then he
devoted fifty years to gathering men of different professions around him. The king separated the
29
Ibid., p. 39.
This story of deliverance, in which a king invested with God’s authority sets people in their
rightful social estates lives on in later Arabic and Persian mirrors for princes. In Niẓām al-Mulk’s
Siyāsatnāmeh, for instance the author (the Saljuq ruler’s minister) depicts his ruler Malikshāh as
this very sort of king, who has come to rule in a time of great anarchy, but inspired with God’s farr
sets men into their rightful ranks and restores order and harmony. Interestingly, Niẓām al-Mulk
tells this story as one of Islamic deliverance, in which Allah’s ruler has saved the world from antiIslamic heresy and injustice.
31
Ferdowsi Shāhnāmeh D. Davis tr. (New York, 2006), 6.
30
11
men into four classes: men of religion; members of the military; farmers; and craftsmen. Jamshid
then devoted another fifty years to “arranging these matters” so that the men from each group were
aware of their appropriate duties and knew their rank.32 The story of Jamshid introduces us to a
king like the one whom we read about in the Letter of Tansar. Tansar likens Ardashir to one of the
ancient heroes of the Avesta33 who produces a sort of social harmony that reflects Zoroastrian
doctrine.
In Tansar’s letter, the decadence of rank is as a principal cause of disorder and ethical
debasement. For this reason, Ardashir asserts that “nothing needs such guarding as degrees among
men.”34 Nobles, for example, are to be set apart from commoners by their clothing, houses and
entrances to public places, and marriage between nobles and commoners is strictly prohibited.35
Tansar outlines other policies and cultural traits that assist Ardashir in his restoration of natural
order. Among them: punishment and bloodshed, implementation of the law, spies and, what he
terms, the “Iranian” quality of humility.
Tansar depicts Ardashir’s use of punishment and bloodshed against his population “…(as)
like the rain which quickens the earth and the sun which gives it help and the wind which increases
its spirit.”36 Ardashir’s use of punishment appears systematic and logical – as if Ardashir adheres to
a science of punishment to restore natural social harmony. Tansar outlines three reasons for
Ardashir’s uses of punishments: heresy, treason and civil discord. He explains that Ardashir
32
Ibid.
The Avesta is a principal collection of Zoroastrian texts.
34
Letter of Tansar, 44.
35
Ibid.
36
Ibid, 40.
33
12
established particular laws for dealing with these three sorts of punishments,37 laws which Tansar
depicts as improvements upon ancient laws.
While previously heretics were “speedily put to death and punished,”38 Ardashir has set a
new law that allows heretics to respond to correction. A heretic should be imprisoned for a year, in
which “learned men should summon him at frequent intervals and advise him and lay arguments.”39
If the heretic repents and accepts the faith he is set free. If he maintains his heretical views, he is
killed.40 This legal system is one in which learning and personal choice to embrace the law are key
components in its functioning. For the charge of treason, however, Ardashir has established a law
that states that some will be put to death, to “to inspire terror and be an example to others,” while
others will be kept alive to serve as examples of contrition.41 Tansar argues that “this is a most
comprehensive measure of good government” to inspire both fear and hope as emotions which will
engender greater support for the king’s authority.42 In these cases, the legal system guides the
people, yet the ruler’s arbitrary amendments to the law remind people that the law is not the
ultimate source of authority. Rather, authority ultimately comes from Ahura Mazda through
Ardashir.
Tansar’s depicts Ardashir’s “book of laws,” the compilation of the legal system he has
created, as tailored to the distinct qualities of different kinds of subjects (i.e. the law should be
lenient toward kind men; it should terrorize evil doers; and it should treat all people in between with
measures that inspire fear and favor). Yet, in addition to crafting a predictable system of law,
Ardashir, “sometimes should exact death for a transgression which merits and deserves pardon, and
Ibid, 42.
Ibid.
39
Ibid.
40
Ibid.
41
Ibid.
42
Ibid.
37
38
13
sometimes pardon a transgression which demands death.”43 Once again, Tansar depicts a system
that reminds the people that while they should be guided toward virtuous behavior by the law, the
ultimate arbiters of people’s fates are God and his divinely invested ruler. This authoritarian clause,
which leaves the fate of legal decisions in the hands of the ruler, grants him great legal discretion.
Such a capacious notion of the ruler’s discretionary judgment is one that Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ will
develop in his own writings.
Tansar also discusses Ardashir’s need for perfect information about the happenings in his
kingdom, to assist him in maintaining an ideal social and ethical system. Tansar depicts Ardashir’s
use of spies as not simply essential for maintaining social order, but as essential for preventing
moral corruption of the realm. Tansar explains, “Ignorance on the part of the king and lack of
knowledge of the affairs of men is a doorway for evil.”44 Interestingly, Ardashir’s divinely inspired
information, which shows the ruler how to set men in “natural” ranks, appears as a gateway to a
better, loftier political place, while the information Ardashir receives from spies pertains to the
closing of a doorway to vice and injustice. In both of these instances, Tansar depicts the ruler as
linked with different sorts of wisdom, divine and earthy, which the ruler uses to set his polity in
place, and to morally guide the polity toward betterment.45
While much of this letter is devoted to showing the reader how Ardashir represents an ideal
restorer of Zoroastrian faith and social order, Tansar also invokes virtues of humility and
submission, which he characterizes as “Iranian” virtues, as the basis for holding Ardashir’s reign in
Ibid, 43.
Ibid, 50.
45
While Ardashir is apparently invested with divine wisdom, on how to discern the natures of men
and set them in respective ranks, he requires spies to provide facts about what is taking place within
his kingdom.
43
44
14
place. Tansar depicts humility as the greatest Iranian virtue that will lead to political exaltation and
ethical conduct. He explains,
Known that we are called the ‘Iranian people,’ and there is no quality or trait of
excellence or nobility which we hold dearer than this, that we have ever showed
humility and lowliness and humbleness in the service of kings, and have chosen
obedience and loyalty, devotion and fidelity. Through this quality our works were
established and we came to be the head and neck of all the climes. And it is because
of this that we are called ‘the lowly’ in scripture and in other books…through
(humility) glory and greatness, honor and rank endure for us, whereas abasement,
abjectness and ruin come through hauter, self-love and high-handedness.46
Humility, in this context, appears as a trait that all members of the policy should uphold –
including the ruler. “The ruler should be one who has given obedience before he takes up the reins
of rulership.”47 In this discussion of humility, we see this virtue as the glue that holds society
together. Such humility serves to help people feel contented with their ranks, in a way that
supposedly makes them feel they are restoring their cultural past.
In summary, in this letter we find a system of authoritarian rule in which the ruler is invested
with Ahura Mazda’s wisdom to guide the people into four estates. Social mobility is discouraged
and punishment and bloodshed are productive tools to ensure order. The ruler is the one who
establishes the law, the apparent guide to human conduct, yet he also has the personal discretion to
transform rulings to engender greater fear and hope in the system. This system, however, is not
solely governed from above. Humility to one’s rank symbolizes a way a subject can not only
support his Zoroastrian system, a system of wisdom that flows down from the ruler, but also imbue
that system with his Iranian heritage.
Ibn al-Muqaffa ‘ invokes and transforms these political
themes in his original Arabic Letter to his caliph called The Letter on Companionship.
46
47
Ibid., p. 52.
Ibid.
15
The Letter on Companionship
In the Letter on Companionship, Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ draws from pre-Islamic sources to
highlight that the ruler has a unique ability to restore order from chaos.48 He quotes the pre-Islamic
poet Afwah al-‘Awdī as having said,
The people will not prosper in anarchy (fawḍā) without a chief among them,
And there can be no chief if ignorant men are in charge.49
However, in this letter, Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ renders this pre-Islamic wisdom applicable to his Islamic
context. He asserts that while Allah has bestowed both religion and a capacity for reason upon
Muslims, God has made it so that Muslims are incapable of understanding the law without the help
of their ruler. Once again, we find a tradition in which religion and kingship appear as twin
brothers.
Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ reasons that in this Islamic context, Allah could not have enumerated each
decision he would make on every matter from the time he sent his messenger until the day of
judgment.50 Doing so, would have made Islam “a burden” Muslims “could not bear.” “God would
have (thus) made religion a constraint upon (Muslims) and given them that which their ears could
not hear and their hearts could not understand.”51 Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ quotes the Quran to reinforce the
Islamic precept that “we would never have gone aright, had God not guided us,” showing that Allah
is the ultimate source of an Islamic path.52 Yet, Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ depicts Allah’s guidance as
48
It is unclear whom Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ wrote this document for. See, for instance, S. D. Goitein’s
discussion in “A Turning Point in the History of the Muslim State” in chapter eight of Studies of
Islamic History and Institutions (Leiden: Brill, 2010), 153. Said Arjomand makes a case for the
position that Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ wrote this document for his patrons, who vied for al-Mansūr’s
position in his article “ ‘Abd Allāh Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ and the Abbasid Revolution” Iranian Studies
24: 1-4 (1994).
49
See The Letter on Companionship, p. 128.
50
The Letter on Companionship, p. 123.
51
Ibid.
52
Ibid. Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ is here invoking Quran 7:43.
16
necessarily supplemented and reinforced on earth by the judgment (ra’y) of rulers. He explains,
God devoted all such matters of command and governance to “ra’y,” and God entrusted ra’y to “the
rulers of the command” (wulāt al-āmr) alone.53 The author even asserts that God did the caliph the
“nicest favor” by rooting out those who share in his command (amr) and who have a different
ra’y.54
Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ declares, “The people have no place in (making such decisions), other than
to give counsel when counsel is sought, to give an answer when invited to do so, and to give advice
behind the scenes.” Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ describes the ruler’s judgment as inspired by Allah (ra’yahu
alladhī yulhimuhu Allāh)55 and as the requisite foundation for Islamic law. Ibn al-Muqaffa‘
describes others’ judgments, which that are not grounded in the caliph’s own, as mere opinions,
outside of the purview of the ruler’s supreme wisdom. For example, Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ depicts legal
scholars, who seek to reason by analogy, as using their opinion (ra’y) in ways that result in a
disparity of views on a given subject, which Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ considers problematic. Ibn alMuqaffa‘ criticizes judges’ distinct rulings in different parts of the empire for common issues.
“Bloodshed and public exposure are considered legal in Hira, but those two things are considered
illegal in Kufa.”56 Their opinions also lead them to make mistakes about the bases for their
analogies, which lead to faulty conclusions.57
For these reasons, Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ asks his ruler to end confusion in the law by using his
divinely inspired judgment to establish a universal legal code. Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ urges his ruler to
aggregate all cases and customs, along with the precedents and analogies various judges have
53
Ibid.
Ibid. p. 121.
55
Ibid., p. 126.
56
Ibid.
57
Ibid., p. 127.
54
17
espoused, to use his own divinely inspired judgment (ra’y) to issue a verdict on each case, and to
then integrate all of his rulings into one comprehensive document that will transform prior rulings
(“which mix truth and error”) into “one correct code.”58 Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ argues that such a
universal legal code “…would be pleasing to God [by creating] unanimous agreement based upon
the ra’y of the Commander of the Believers and his decree.”59 Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ hopes that this
practice, of the harmonization of legal judgment, grounded in the ruler’s judgment (ra’y), will
continue from one caliph to the next “until the end of time.”60
Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s depiction of the ruler’s divinely inspired judgment (i.e. his use of the
Arabic word “ra’y”), is reminiscent of the divine glory Ahura Mazda invests in Ardashir. Like the
wisdom Ahura Mazda bestows upon Ardashir, ra’y emerges in Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s Letter on
Companionship as the divine wisdom Allah bestows upon the caliph to harmonize the law. Yet Ibn
al-Muqaffa‘ use of this Arabic word “ra’y,” to connote the ruler’s judgment, was antithetical to the
emerging definition of this word in his context. In Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s lifetime, ra’y was developing
as a legal concept that involved independent judgment, when the Quran and hadith did not treat a
matter directly. In Iraq, ra’y was a dialogic practice that involved an exchange of ideas, in which
proto-jurists61 investigated details of hypothetical situations.62 These men did so by posing questions
to one another. Speakers would introduce their questions with the phrases “is it not the case that” or
58
Ibid.
Ibid.
60
Ibid.
61
While there was no formal and systematic codification of the law at this time, there were men,
considered knowledgeable about Islamic law or fiqh at this time.
62
Ahmed El-Shamsy mentions the first recorded example of such a ra’y debate between Abū
Ḥanīfa and his contemporary in 765 C.E. (some eight years after Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s death).
59
18
“tell me your opinion about” (or a’ra’ita or a-lā tarā).63 Such questions would create numerous
other ones, creating new disputes and concerns.64 As Ahmed El-Shamsy notes:
The ra’y method thus added more and more detail to the existing map of Islamic
normativity by plumbing the depths and exploring the boundaries of already existing
norms.65
In this way, emerging legal scholars used their own authority to make decisions. The outcomes of
these conversations influenced local practices on how issues would be treated. Such dialogue was
incompatible with a view of the law as “a stable path that one must simply follow.”66 Steeped in a
middle-Persian tradition that esteemed social order as the basis for a just and virtuous world, Ibn alMuqaffa‘ sought to redefine this emerging conception of ra’y – to render ra’y a stable foundation
for the law, which would be administered by the caliph alone. Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s attempt to redefine
the meaning of this word for judgment to buttress the position of the caliph offers a perfect example
of how an Arabic writer transformed juridical language to introduce a system of authoritarian rule
that was not naturally there. This example shows the rhetorical work it took for such an author to try
to translate an authoritarian system into an emerging Islamic legal tradition.
Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ also offers other suggestions on how the caliph can institutionalize his
authority to restore social order. Much in the way that The Letter of Tansar depicts a natural, social
equilibrium as essential for a well-functioning society, the Letter on Companionship represents such
an equilibrium as necessary for restoring order to the Abbasid dynasty. While Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ does
not identify four particular social ranks that would mirror the Zoroastrian ranks of the clergy,
63
See Heinrich L. Fliescher’s “Beiträge zur arabischen Sprachkunde VII,” in Kleinere Schriften, ed.
Anton Huber, Heinrich Thorbecke, and Ferdinand Mühlau, 3 vols. (Leipzig: S. Hirzel, 1885-1888),
I: 481-487, cited in Ahmed el-Shamsy’s From Tradition to Law: the Origins and Early
Development of the Shāf‘i School of Law in Ninth-Century Egypt, 16.
64
El-Shamsy, From Tradition to Law, 21.
65
El-Shamsy, From Tradition to Law,14.
66
Ibid., 33.
19
military, scribes and artisans in The Letter of Tansar, he does highlight the need to restore particular
social estates. Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ perspective on social estates is grounded in his assumption that
individuals’ respective natures ought to correspond with the social rank they inhabit.
In this letter, Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ is concerned about the current state of affairs, in which people
are not inhabiting their “natural” ranks. He is concerned, for example, that the military are in a
situation where they collect taxes. Such a base activity, Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ reasons, will corrupt their
lofty rank. Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ distinguishes different, natural characteristics of tax collectors and of
fighters, highlighting that “while the office of administering the land tax (wilāyat al-kharāj) invites
baseness, degradation, and ignominy, the rank of the fighter is a rank of honor and grace (manzilat
al-muqātil manzilat al-karāma wa al-luṭf).”67 He depicts tax collectors as “a people of audacity and
troublemaking...”,68 while the army appears as an extraordinary social group – the likes of which
has never before been encountered in Islam.
Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s discussion of the army (jund) is specific to the context in which he writes,
and he thus speaks of the imperial army of Khurasan, who has just fought and won the Abbasid
revolution. Among this army’s virtues, Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ lists their familiarity with obedience, their
excellence in the eyes of the people, their probity and chastity, their tendency to abstain from
corruption, and their humility toward rulers. He stresses, that “we do not know that this condition
can be found in anybody other than them.”69 Yet, Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ explains that such a rank is only
at its best if it stays in its natural station and acts according to the ruler’s judgment.
Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ finds that, in the context in which he is writing this letter, there is a
mismatch between the ruler’s “judgment, words and deeds,” and those of the military. Ibn al-
The Letter on Companionship, p. 123.
Ibid.
69
Ibid.
67
68
20
Muqaffa‘ depicts this situation as extraordinarily dangerous. Reciting a saying often attributed to
the fourth Islamic caliph ‘Alī ibn Abī Ṭālib, Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ tells his ruler that “whoever uses a
[particular military] group to pounce upon the people, without knowing whether they agree with
him in judgment (ra’y), word (qawl), or deed (sīra), is like the rider of a lion who is feared by those
who see him but who is actually even more afraid.”70 For this reason, Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ asks his ruler
to educate the military in his judgment by writing a guidebook that will outline their appropriate
conduct. Military commanders will then memorize this book and use it to instruct their troops. He
explains,
If the Commander of the Believers were to write them a guidebook—fitting,
eloquent, and concise, encompassing everything (the army) must adhere to and
abstain from, citing extensive evidence, and curbing fanaticism, which their leaders
will memorize so that they can lead their troops according to it and so that even the
most insignificant person in their ranks from among the great masses of people will
pledge himself to it—then that, God willing, would put their judgment (ra’y) aright,
[act as] evidence to others besides them, and serve as an excuse from God...71
Such a manual will serve to institutionalize the ruler’s judgment in the army’s behavior and thereby
habituate the army to inhabit their natural rank. These rules will serve to reinforce behavior that
should also come from the ruler’s custody over their general education, which would involve
schooling in Quran and religious understanding, as well as ethical virtues, such as loyalty, chastity,
moderation and modesty.72 The ruler is also to manage the army’s expectations with respect to their
salaries, by creating a regular payment schedule and a registry that includes individual names and
when they shall be paid, to prevent complaints or confusion about their role and compensation.73
Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ also depicts the ruler’s control of the military as guided by his perfect
information about their behavior. Much like king Ardashir, who was invested with God’s wisdom to
70
Letter on Companionship, 121-122.
Letter on Companionship, 122.
72
Letter on Companionship, 124.
73
Ibid.
71
21
rule but still needed the help of spies to provide details about particular events in his kingdom, the
Abbasid ruler requires such assistance as well. Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ asks his ruler to access information
about the military from trustworthy advisors or spies,74 on whom he should spare no expense to
guarantee their support.
One distinction between Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s discussion of spies and the one present in the
Letter of Tansar is Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s greater skepticism about the veracity of the information spies
provide. Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s ruler must always personally verify his understanding of social groups
within his kingdom, to ensure that his understanding of their behavior is accurate. Ibn al-Muqaffa
explains that “If the wielder of authority (sulṭān)… keeps asking about (his people) from someone
who knows about them and (he) does not verify these investigations [for himself], then affairs will
cease being in their proper order and men will fall from their [proper] ranks (manāzil).”75 This
model of social harmony is founded upon a system of perfect information, which does not all flow
naturally to the ruler from God himself. Acquiring knowledge of the mundane facts of life, which
can be obtaining through spying or personal investigation, is essential to the ruler’s maintenance of
social order.
Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s discussions of the ruler’s use of his divinely inspired judgment, to create a
system of rules and cultivate habits that will lead men to inhabit their ideal rank, is not localized to
his treatment of the ruler’s control of the judiciary or military. Rather, Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s treatment
of these subjects pertains to all social ranks. So, for example, Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ hopes to restore
peasants and tax collectors to their respective ranks by having the ruler exercise his judgment in
assigning particular taxes over specific areas and recording them in a register. Such a register will
manage farmers’ expectations and ensure their fair treatment by tax collectors. Such a register will,
74
75
Ibid.
Ibid., 125.
22
like the universal legal code or the army’s book of conduct, institutionalize the ruler’s judgment and
guide the right behavior of tax collectors and peasants.76
In these discussions of the law, army and taxation, Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ casts a positive picture
of how the caliph should socialize men to inhabit their ranks, without any mention of punishment.
This pedagogical account differs from the one attributed to Ardashir in The Letter of Tansar, who
sees punishment and terror as natural, productive modes of restoring order. In contrast, Ibn alMuqaffa‘ depicts an ideal account of socialization that emanates from the caliph’s judgment as
implemented in laws and institutions. Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s account sounds much closer to the
description of the ancient king Jamshid. Jamshid’s training of men in their respective crafts is what
guides his people to inhabit their ranks and to thereby restore a natural equilibrium. Farr is not
something Jamshid implements upon his subjects through terror. It is something the ruler guides his
subjects to internalize in a pedagogical process of training.77 Such apprenticeships, between the
ruler and his subjects, not only train people to perform particular jobs but they also habituate people
to inhabit respective social units in their kingdom. Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ seems to have a similar
conception of education — suggesting that it facilitates equilibrium, which complements the rulers
restoration of order from the top-down.
Ibn al-Muqaffa‘, however, offers a model of education that is not grounded entirely in the
ruler’s judgment. He suggests that social estates serve as models for one another, representing
virtues subjects ought to uphold. Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ presents the social rank of “companionship,”
what he depicts as the loftiest rank beneath the caliph, as the most important one for educating the
76
Ibid., 129-130.
There is no description of how Jamshid separates people into different ranks. This separation
could possibly be violent, though there is no description of that here. In Plato’s Republic, a process
of social separation involves requiring parents to send off their child, if he or she is born meant for a
different rank. While such separation is not physically violent, it certainly sounds emotionally
difficult.
77
23
populace. These companions are “the ornament of (the caliph’s) court, the adornment of his
council, the mouthpiece of his subjects, the supporters of his judgment (ra’y)… and the elect among
his commoners (al-khāṣṣa min ‘āmmatihi).”78 For this reason, these lofty companions are to be
exemplary individuals. A companion might be courageous in battle (balā’), esteemed for his family
reputation (ḥasab) and personal integrity (‘afāf), or renowned for his religious knowledge (fiqh).
Such brave, virtuous men can move up from the rank of the army (al-jund) to that of companionship
(ṣaḥāba). They serve to guide those in their midst. A righteous man of religious knowledge (faqīh),
placed among the most prominent people, will guide their conduct.79 Yet part of Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s
story about how to build such an ideal social order, involves his account of how this rank has fallen
into disarray. He presents the moral and political effects that such disorder has already had on his
polity, stressing the real-life implications of implementing his model of social restoration.
Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ describes his current environment, in which “so-and-so” and “so-and-so”
boast about being companions,80 while lacking respectable kinship ties (nasab), religious
understanding (fiqh) or valor in battle (balā’). Companionship (ṣaḥāba) has become “a laughing
matter.”81 Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ depicts the debasement of this rank as having harmed the tribe of
Quraysh, in particular, and many people in general, having spoiled pre-existing social values of
family reputations (aḥsāb) and valor (muruwwāt).82 Such a social transition here has moral
implications. As men sully the rank of companionship, pre-Islamic, Arabian values of personal
merit and bravery, no longer orient the polity toward betterment. Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ here equates the
debasement of social rank with that of pre-Islamic Arabian values and genealogy. In this way, Ibn
78
Letter on Companionship, 127.
Ibid., 129.
80
Ibid., p. 127.
81
Ibid., p. 128.
82
Ibid.
79
24
al-Muqaffa‘ presents the fate of this rank of companionship as integral to the moral foundation of
his society. While Ardashir finds that nothing needs such guarding as degrees among men to
preserve a Zoroastrian moral order, Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ seeks to preserve social ranks in a way that will
restore Arabian pre-Islamic values. In addition, Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s great concern about preserving
the rank (manzila) of companionship (ṣaḥāba), a term that connotes the companions of the prophet
Muhammad, reflects Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s desire to develop a ranked social order, reminiscent of preIslamic models, that responds to his Islamic environment.
This social order, in contrast to the one we see in The Letter of Tansar, allows for social
mobility. Men known for their religious knowledge, valiance in war or personal virtues are also to
be taken into this elite rank, to act as exemplary figures for the rest of the population. Serving as an
example to the rest of society is a vehicle for social elevation. Such social mobility contrasts with
the stasis that characterizes the orderly world in The Letter of Tansar. In The Letter on
Companionship, it is this mobility that serves to integrate diverse virtues associated with preIslamic Arabia into the very fabric of Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s ideal system.
Perhaps the Abbasid
revolution, which took place shortly before this letter was written, generated this space for thinking
about social mobility. At this time, social roles were in flux.
Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s discussion of the rank of companionship, and ways that companions
should exemplify attributes that would inspire the rest of the population, is part of a more general
account of pedagogical relationships between “the elect” (al-khaṣṣa) and “the common” (al‘amma). For Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ these hierarchical apprenticeships between different segments of the
population, educate the people to act in harmony with God’s judgment, which is invested in the
caliph. Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ writes,
So God put among [the commoners] an elite from the people of religion and reason,
to whom they look up and listen; these elites concern themselves with the affairs of
25
the commoners and devote themselves to them with seriousness, advice, persistence,
and strength. May God make that a [source of] righteousness for their society, a rope
from the elite to the people of righteousness, an increase in God’s blessings toward
them, and a means of attaining all goodness. And the need of the elite for the imam,
through whom God rectifies their affairs, is like the need of the commoners for the
elite—even more so. Through the imam, God unites their affairs, suppresses their
critics, unifies their judgment and speech (ra’y wa-kalima), shows them their rank
(manzila) over and above the commoners, gives them evidence and support and
doctrines against those who swerve from their rightful path. When we see these
affairs put together into an orderly system, and we learn that the affair of the
Commander of the Believers is likewise [systematic], God will unite the elites of the
Muslims in their desire to help and support and strive for the prosperity of the
commoners.83
This conception of the elect and the common, dyadic relationships between social estates in this
system, offers a model for how the polity is to grow from the bottom-up, as well as from the topdown. People are to constantly learn from those above them, as paragons for how to acquire greater
virtue. This vision of how civic bonds strengthen this authoritarian system complements Ibn alMuqaffa‘’s advice to members of his own rank of secretaries in his Major Work of Ethics. In that
context, he urges his colleagues to esteem relationships in which they are inferior, intellectually or
otherwise, for this humility helps them ascend to a loftier place. He writes,
…Know that you are at your best when you are with those better than you (khayr
minka). [Know] that it is an advantage for you that your comrade or associate is
superior to you in knowledge, for you will acquire his knowledge; superior to you in
strength, for he will defend you with his strength; superior to you in wealth, for you
will benefit from his wealth; superior to you in standing, for you can attain your
needs using his standing; and superior to you in religion, for you will increase in
righteousness through his righteousness.84
This understanding of civic relationships, as ones in which we ascend through revering those above
us, would reinforce such a system of expansive caliphal authority and social order. While Ibn alMuqaffa‘’s notion of social learning sounds reminiscent of the “Iranian” notion of humility, present
in The Letter of Tansar, Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s attention to Arabian virtues and noble lineage, that
83
84
The Letter on Companionship, 130.
See Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s Major Work of Ethics, in the same Kurd Ali edition cited above, 94-5.
26
should be part of this learning process, reflect ways that he blends a pre-Islamic model of social
order with Arabic and Islamic ideals that he hopes to restore in the Abbasid context.
And so it becomes clear that Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ was more than just a translator and that his
Arabic writings are more than derivative transpositions of “Sasanian shoots upon old Arabic
stock.”85 He transforms a pre-Islamic model of authoritarian rule into a political program that he
asks his Abbasid ruler to implement. Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s account of authoritarian rule is not simply
an Umayyad conception of vast caliphal authority, which requires the people’s obedience. And it is
not simply a Sasanian model of a divinely inspired ruler setting men into four natural ranks. Rather,
it is a model designed for a cosmopolitan Abbasid context, in which a Muslim caliph is to re-orient
juridical discussions in his midst to inscribe his judgment into particular legal and educational
institutions, which serve to restore Arab titles, genealogies and values. That is, Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s
Letter on Companionship shows us that authoritarian rule is a malleable human construct that he
adapted to respond to his existential concerns.
We can discern how radically Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s conception of caliphal rule departs from
earlier Islamic conceptions of caliphal authority if we compare Ibn al-Muqaffa‘’s vision with the
accession speech of Abu Bakr in 632 C.E. Abu Bakr was the first caliph to follow the prophet
Muhammad, some one hundred years before Ibn al-Muqaffa writes his letter on companionship.
And Abu Bakr said,
O people, I have been appointed to rule over you, though I am not the best among
you. If I do well, help me, and if I do ill, correct me. Truth is loyalty and falsehood
is treachery; the weak among you is strong in my eyes until I get justice for him,
please God, and the strong among you is weak in my eyes until I exact justice for
him, please God…If weakness spreads among a people, God brings disaster upon all
of them. Obey me as long as I obey God and His Prophet. And if I disobey God and
85
This phrase is J. D. Latham’s in his chapter “Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ and Early Arabic Prose” in Abbasid
Belles Lettres, J. Ashiany et. al. eds. (Cambridge: Cambridge, UP, 2008), 53.
27
His Prophet, you do not owe me any obedience. Come to prayer and may God have
mercy on you.86
Unlike Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ who asks his ruler to stand above the people and to situate them in ranks,
Abu Bakr implores his people to guide his rule. He humbly presents himself as beneath them,
urging them to disobey him if they think he has gone astray. Abu Bakr’s speech reminds us of the
rhetorical work it took to translate authoritarianism into an Islamic context, a labor Ibn al-Muqaffa‘
took on by seeking to blend pre-Islamic and Islamic ideas to advance his goals.
In conclusion, I hope to respond to Lisa Anderson’s call to study authoritarian contexts to
better understand their intricacies. I suggest that one way political scientists can come to better
appreciate the theoretical foundations of authoritarian systems would be to engage with the models
of rule that Middle Eastern authors have espoused and transformed over hundreds of years. That is,
I urge comparativists to engage with the work of political theorists and historians of political
thought. Yet this engagement should not be mono-directional. Theorists have much to learn from
comparativists of the Middle East today. In reading Amaney Jamal’s work on Palestine, for
example, I learned that her insight about how civic organizations can buttress authoritarian systems
of rule was one that Ibn al-Muqaffa‘ apparently knew and sought to inscribe into an authoritarian
system. From this standpoint, I realized that we should not study authoritarian typologies in a
vacuum, as systems of rule that bear no resemblance to theories of democracy. Rather, there are
diverse forces at play in all political systems, and an author’s ability to emphasize forces that are
bottom-up, top-down or horizontal, reflect his own attempt to craft a system that responds to his
own concerns. Nadia Urbinati makes a similar point about democracy in her recent book
Democracy Disfigured, in which she stresses antidemocratic forces that have always been part of
86
See Bernard Lewis’ translation of Abu Bakr’s accession speech in Islam from the Prophet
Muhammad to the Capture of Constantinople. Vol. I: Politics and War (New York: Walter and
Company, 1974), 5. Thanks to Ahmed El-Shamsy for encouraging this comparison.
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democratic theories.87 Urbinati’s aim is to enrich our understanding of democratic theory. Yet
maybe the stronger point is that the lines between democratic and antidemocratic thought are
illusory, and that political theorists can learn much more about both if we simply expand the scope
of the canon we mine, in exploring the theoretical underpinnings of diverse political systems today.
87
Nadia Urbinati, Democracy Disfigured (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard UP, 2014).
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