Imam Abu Hamid Al-Ghazali, who was born in the middle of the fifth century of the Islamic calendar, is the subject of much controversy. There are those who label him as a saviour and reformer, who at a time of crisis in the Islamic world, rejuvenated the religion. And then there are those who hold him exclusively responsible for suppressing scientific thought among Muslims that led eventually to their backwardness and domination by the resurgent and progressive West. Which, if any, of these views is supported by what has come down to us of his scholarship more than a thousand years after he was laid to rest? But before we seek to answer this question it is useful to learn something about the man and his life. Mohammad ibn Ahmed Abu Hamid Al-Ghazali was born in 450 H (1058 AD) in the town of Tous in Khorasan in what is now the North Eastern part of Iran. His father was a spinner of wool (ghazzal in Arabic) who earned his living by selling his fabric in the local yarn market. It is thought this is why Abu Hamid was called “Gazzali”. Another view holds that he was born in a village called Ghazala (with a single z) and so was also known as “Gazali”. In the event it is this latter pronunciation that prevailed. The education of the young Abu Hamid started in Tous. He then moved to Gorgon now the capital of the Iranian province of Golestan. And from there, in 470 H, to the city of Nishapur, once the most important centres of learning and culture in the Abbasid Empire until it was destroyed by an earthquake in 540 H. At Nishapur he became a student of one of the leading scholars of the age Abu Al-M’ali Al-Juwaini better known as Imam of the Haramain. In addition to the Fiqh, Ghazali studied all the Islamic schools of thought, debate, logic, and philosophy and excelled at all. When Juwaini died, Ghazali moved to Baghdad where he taught for six years and continued his own study of Fiqh and what came to be known as ‘Ilm Al-Kalam. This was a branch of knowledge that developed out of the works of Greek philosophers which were translated into Arabic during the time of the early Abbasid Khalifas. Now that we have an idea of the man and the age in which he lived let us return to the question we posed at the outset The principal objective of ‘Ilm Al-Kalam was to use the principles of Greek philosophy and logic and apply them to proving the existence of God. And also, to seek guidance on an abstruse dispute among the scholars on whether the Quran was ‘created’ or ‘uncreated’. During his time in Baghdad Ghazali wrote several books on philosophy, its objectives and its pitfalls. He left Baghdad in 488 H for Damascus where he stayed for two years during which he lived the reclusive life of a Sufi. From Damascus he travelled to Jerusalem where he spent his days isolated in the Dome of the Rock. And from Jerusalem he went to the Hijaz to perform Hajj. During this period of isolation in his life he wrote dozens of books. The most important of these was his magnum opus a 2000-page tome entitled Ihya ‘Ulum Al-Deen – Vivification of the Religious Sciences. From the Hijaz he returned to Nishapur to teach. After two years in Nishapur he went back to his birthplace Tous where he set up an academy for teaching Fiqh near his childhood home. He died at the age of 54 in the year 505 H (1111 AD). Ghazali lived during an age of turmoil in the Muslim world. The third Abbasid age, as it was known, was a period characterized by intense political and intellectual differences. It was a period when the Abbasid empire, as its military and political power waned, started to disintegrate. Ethical and moral decline was coupled with stagnation and indolence of thought. It is perhaps these factors that motivated Ghazali to apply his incisive and inquisitive mind to seek answers. He had a near insatiable thirst for all types of knowledge in order to seek the truth and to understand the reality of things. An excerpt from his book Al-Munqidh Min Al-Dalal (Saviour from Falling into Error), written near the end of his life, reveals the nature of his mind: “From the time I was a young man, not yet 20 years old, until today when I am more than 50, I have never ceased to fathom this deep sea (of knowledge), and to plumb its deepest recesses, to unravel every mystery, to attack every quandary, to understand the belief of every school of thought, and to explore the secrets of every sect and group in order to distinguish truth from falsehood. I do not leave a philosopher until I am able to understand the essence of his philosophy, nor a mutakallim (a practitioner of ‘Ilm Al-Kalaam) until I am able to see the objective of his arguments, nor a Sufi until I discover the secret of his tranquility, nor a deeply religious man until I discern the consequences of his worship, nor an atheist until I investigate the reasons for his recklessness and his denial of God.” Now that we have an idea of the man and the age in which he lived let us return to the question we posed at the outset. The answer, such as it is, is to be sought in his monumental 2000-page Ihya ‘Uloom Al-Deen. Ghazali realized that the disorder, strife and turmoil of his time, the strident differences between the ‘Ulema, the splintering of Islam along multiple sectarian lines had left Muslims bewildered and weakened. His book, as the title suggests, seeks to set out the fundamental principles of Islam in a clear, logical and rational way. Written for ordinary people in language that is at once simple and eloquent, it consists of 40 chapters or ‘books’ as Ghazali calls them. The first of these is tellingly entitled ‘The book of knowledge’. The central tenets of Islam are taken up, each in a ‘book’ of its own. So, there is a book on fasting, on prayer, on Zakat, and on Hajj. Subsequent ‘books’ take up more mundane subjects such as the earning one’s livelihood, travel, betrothal, patience and thankfulness, fear and hope, poverty and asceticism, forgiveness, arrogance and pride and so on. Throughout the book Ghazali treads a middle path with reason, common sense and logic as his guide. There is a breathtaking display of knowledge that leaves one wondering how one man in a shortened lifetime could have accumulated and retained so much. Ghazali expresses disdain for what he calls the ‘Ulema of the Dunya – scholars who serve at the whims of rulers, or who peddle their knowledge for profit. Nor does he have any time for the Fuqahaa who spend their time splitting hairs on the right or wrong way to perform this or that ritual. His concern is with the essence of religion rather than its outward manifestations. The answer to the first part of the question whether Ghazali succeeded in saving or reforming Islam does not admit of a simple answer. The merit and truth of his scholarship are indisputable. The impact and influence these had on the day to day lives of people during his time and later is less clear. People remained divided among sectarian lines. Society continued to be riven by political, religious and cultural strife. Dissolute rulers, with the ‘Ulema of the Dunya at their side, foisted pain, suffering and injustice on their hapless subjects. But to those individuals fortunate enough to lay their hands on Ghazali’s writings he was a guiding light in an age of darkness. In reading his works they were able to understand and practice their religion in the way that the Prophet (SAW) and his companions had intended. So, to this extent, he did have an impact on the lives of many. And continues to do so today. As to the second part of the question, whether Ghazali was responsible for the suppression of scientific thought among the Muslims, the answer is unambiguous. The first ‘book’ of Ihya ‘Uloom Al-Deen is a long chapter entitled Kitaab ul ‘Ilm (The book of knowledge). The word ‘ilm, plural ‘uloom, was at the time an overarching term for the sum total of human intellectual endeavour. This included what are today the natural and physical sciences, medicine, theology, philosophy, mathematics, astrology, the study of religions, history, language and linguistics and so on. Ghazali begins the ‘book’ of ‘Ilm by a spirited exhortation to seek knowledge at all times and at all places. He adduces multiple verses from the Quran, and the sayings of the Prophet (SAW) and his companions that enjoin learning on the Muslims. He urges Muslims to seek knowledge that will benefit them in the world. He singles out, for example, medicine and mathematics as being indispensable. Astronomy is lauded for its usefulness in navigation. And of course, the study of religion is deemed essential. But there is also a word of caution: Human life is short. It should be focused on that which is of benefit. Not wasted on that which has no utility. And in this latter category he puts, for example, the ‘science’ of divining the future by looking at the positions of the stars and planets. Logical and rational as Ghazali was, he believed that there could be no possible relationship between the movements of celestial bodies and the personal fortunes of people on Earth. To accuse Ghazali then of discouraging scientific thought and endeavor is like denying the existence of the midday Sun in a clear blue sky. Every fibre of his being was dedicated to seeking the truth. He would be the last person on Earth to condemn Muslims to ignorance and backwardness. The tragedy, our tragedy today, is that we speak without knowledge and accuse without evidence. The writer is Chairman of Mustaqbil Pakistan