1 The Qurâan and the reformation of Judaism and Christianity
Holger M. Zellentin
Over the past decades, the Qurâan has moved closer towards the canon of the discursive space we conceive of as the West: no longer just the Scripture of an important minority, the Qurâan has become the focus of intense societal attention and is slowly being included in the curricula of schools and universities.1 This movement coincides with a double realignment of, first, the way in which we position the Qurâan vis-Ă -vis its historical context, and second, how we, as Western scholars of the Qurâan, position ourselves towards the text within our own historical context. On the one hand, we have come to recognize that the Scripture of Islam should be understood not only as the foundational document of the Islamic community but also in dialogue with the world of Late Antiquity, whose transition into the Middle Ages was expedited by the rise of the Islamic community itself.2 On the other hand, the process of the Qurâanâs Western canonization has coincided with a methodological shift, leading to a long-overdue âlinguistic turnâ in the study of the Qurâan, which allowed for a reconsideration of the methodologies we employ and thereby for a more sophisticated self-reflection of how our own context determines our approaches.3
A key figure in translating the continental attention to hermeneutics into a more pragmatic world of Anglo-American historiography, and into the debate surrounding the Western canon, was Dominick LaCapra. In 1983, LaCapra sought to define the two parallel relationships between, on the one hand, a canonical âtextâ and its historical âcontextâ and, on the other hand, between the historian and her own present world.4 LaCapraâs insights remain highly relevant to the rapidly evolving field of the academic study of the Qurâan, since they guide us on âa way that engages us as interpreters in a particularly compelling conversation with the past.â5 He set apart ordinary texts from canonical ones, which he defined precisely not in terms of the status they already had acquired but in terms of their merit as those texts that âoften or even typically engage in processes that both employ or refer to ordinary assumptions and contest them, at times radically.â6 Regarding such texts, he stated the following:
Rather [such] texts should be seen to address us in more subtle and challenging ways, and they should be carried into the present â with implications for the future â in a âdialogicalâ fashion⊠. [Such a] text is a network of resistances, and a dialogue is a two-way affair; a good reader is also an attentive and patient listener. Questions are necessary to focus interest in an investigation, but a fact may be pertinent to a frame of reference by contesting or even contradicting it. An interest in what does not fit a model and an openness to what one does not expect to hear from the past may even help to transform the very questions one poses to the past.7
Recognizing the Qurâanâs value as a canonical text, in the sense that it resists common assumptions, allows for an especially compelling conversation with the Islamic Scripture. When approaching the Qurâan as scholars, we must embrace the reality that the questions we ask are determined by our own present context. Yet at the same time, the quality of our scholarship will be determined by how we react to the innumerable moments of resistances to these questions that we encounter when carefully listening to the Qurâanâs message.8
The chapters collected in this volume seek a more nuanced understanding of a very timely question, namely how to understand the Qurâan in its Jewish and Christian context. This question is by no means a new one, but has been of central importance at least three times in the course of history. The Qurâan itself evokes the experiences and the fate of the âSons of Israelâ (banÄ« ÊŸisrÄÊŸÄ«l, see e.g. Q 2:40), that of the âPeople of the Scriptureâ (ÊŸahl al-kitÄb, see e.g. Q 29:46), as well as, in its Medinan suras, more specifically the presence of âthe Jews and the Christiansâ (al-yahĆ«d wa-l-naáčŁÄrÄ, Q 5:51) as central points of reference.9 Likewise, the earliest Muslim commentators â as well as many non-Muslim critics of Islam throughout the Middle Ages and beyond â have time and again turned to the evidence provided by their own Jewish and Christian contemporaries in order to contextualize the Qurâanâs often-elliptical utterances.10 The Western academic study of the Qurâan, finally, also began precisely with a new attempt to read the Qurâan as a historical document in light of Jewish and Christian sources.11 Yet the way in which the authors of the following chapters, along with other contemporary scholars, seek to contextualize the Qurâan is reflective of contemporary concerns and is markedly different from that of their predecessors in various ways.
In contrast to the comparative efforts of religious polemicists of past and present, many contemporary scholars have largely digested the lessons of postcolonialism in as far as they tend not to seek to establish the superiority of any one tradition over any other.12 More acutely, in line with the lessons learned in the study of religion, and in contrast with those traditional exegetes â and even in contrast with some contemporary scholars â the following chapters tend not to compare the Qurâan â leave alone âIslamâ â to an essentialized, and thereby ahistorical, view of âJudaismâ or âChristianity.â Rather, they seek to gain a nuanced understanding of those particular types of Judaism and Christianity at the turn of the seventh century, whose adherents may have been in dialogue with â or would even, at least occasionally, have constituted part of â the Qurâanâs audience.13 Moreover, in distinction especially from the early representatives of the Western academic study of the Qurâan, the chapters here collected do not seek to trace the âinfluenceâ of the Jewish and Christian tradition upon the Islamic Scripture, but rather tend to problematize this very concept, often taking established affinities as the backdrop of the shared discursive world within which and against which scholars should attentively, patiently, and in particular, openly, understand the Qurâanâs message.
To give but one example of the many ways in which the Qurâan, as the Scripture of the âyoungestâ of the three major traditions that lay claim to the biblical heritage, resists our preconceptions is the way in which it often situates itself as the representative of the âoldestâ of these traditions, seeking to push back against perceived Jewish and Christian innovation. Resisting our sense of historical cause and effect, of earlier and later, and of the self-evident antiquity of Judaism and novelty of Islam, the Qurâan sees itself as reinstituting the original, unspoiled, and pure form of worship that had been established in the mythical past. When stating that the Torah and the Gospel âwere not sent down until after himâ (wa-mÄ ÊŸunzilati ⊠ʟillÄ min baÊżdihÄ«, Q 3:65), i.e. after Abraham, and deducing that Abraham âwas not a Jew and not a Christianâ (mÄ kÄna ÊŸibrÄhÄ«mu yahĆ«diyyan wa-lÄ naáčŁrÄniyyan, Q 3:67), the Qurâan in effect offers something surprising. Its argument here resists our preconceptions of it as a premodern text in as far as it parallels that of modern historical criticism of Christianity and Judaism, which have emphasized the ahistorical nature of the claim that Church fathers and rabbis have laid on Abraham.14
We should not, of course, project a Western historical consciousness onto the Qurâan. As is well known, the passage under discussion then goes on to depict Abraham as a áž„anÄ«f muslim (Q 3: 67), as submitting to God in His absolute oneness in a manner that is peculiar to the Qurâan alone. Likewise, in the Qurâanâs sacred history, which comes into ever sharper focus throughout its protean yet detectable chronological development, true submission to God â islÄm (see e.g. Q 3:19) â has been practiced throughout the history of humankind and predates the giving of the Torah to Moses.15 Such an essentialized view of the one true religion has understandably inspired generations of Muslims to claim Abraham as a Muslim in the same way that Jews and Christians have claimed him as one of their own. A projection of the present onto the past, in turn, conforms better to our view of Late Ancient religious claims, showing that the Qurâan here can helpfully be described as one of those canonical texts that âboth employ or refer to ordinary assumptions and contest them, at times radically,â just as LaCapra has it: to view Abraham as oneâs own is shared by many Late Antique traditions, yet to challenge such a claim on historiographical grounds is a radical contestation of the same assumption.
There are, then, many ways in which the Qurâan does not neatly align with the ordinary assumptions we hold about Late Antiquity, and even moments when the Qurâan helps us challenge contemporary scholarly assumptions about Judaism and Christianity. In the view of many, for example, Judaism stands for obedience to the law and Christianity for its abrogation, and Islam simply seeks to replace both. The chapters in this volume show a more nuanced relationship, which can often be described as the Qurâanâs attempt to reform rather than to replace the religion of the Jews and the Christians of its time. In the Qurâanâs narrative of sacred history, namely, only part of the laws given to the Israelites are seen as eternal, while others are presented as contingent on the peopleâs transgressions, as a temporary and punitive law (see Q 4:160â1). In this narrative, Jesus came to abrogate the punitive parts of Godâs law alone (see Q 3:48â50), leading to the split between those Israelites who rejected and those who accepted Jesus, i.e. between the Jews and the Christians (see Q 61:14).16 While the latter are described as more open to Godâs message than the former, they are, in turn, portrayed as having corrupted the true religion in another manner, especially so by compromising Godâs unity.17
The Qurâan, then, presents a two-fold message. On the one hand, and especially in its earlier suras, it offers a message of a new revelation, seeking to end the practices of the Meccans, of which it perceives in terms of âassociatingâ angelic and other beings with God (see e.g. Q 53:19â23).18 On the other hand, from early on yet with increasing emphasis, the Qurâan offers a message of a religious reformation to the Jews and the Christians of its own time: it exhorts them to return to the ways of Abraham as a pre-Israelite monotheist and to the posited original absolute monotheism.19 The Qurâan, in other words, increasingly seeks to replace aspects of perceived Jewish and Christian particularism â such as the fulfillment of the âpunitiveâ parts of the law despite their abrogation, or the worship of Jesus â with its own teachings, just as a Western historian would expect. Yet the Qurâanâs process of formulating its own position in dialogue with the Jews and Christians of its time is the result of a complex and nuanced development that occurred over the entirety of the period of the Qurâanâs promulgation. An understanding of this process requires us to listen very carefully and to show â[a]n interest in what does not fit a model and an openness to what one does not expect to hear from the past,â which in turn may even help us âto transform the very questions one poses to the past,â as LaCapra put it. Sometimes, in order to grasp the Qurâanâs response to Judaism and Christianity, we need to use the Islamic Scripture as a guide not for answering, but for asking the right questions to all three traditions and to allow our views of Late Antiquity to be challenged by the way this period gave way to the Middle Ages.
In seeking to pay due attention to the Qurâanâs particular ways of resisting to explicit or tacit preconceptions that we bring to it, the present volume does not set out a coherent theory of the Qurâanâs self-image as confirming to the original religion, or even of its many attempts to reform what it sees as the aberrations in its timesâ Judaism and Christianity. Instead, the following case studies offer a glimpse of the status questionis of major trends in Qurâanic studies, reflecting a variety of different approaches that touch on many of the most important methodological, historical, literary, and philological questions which need to be answered before a more comprehensive thesis can be sketched. Six of the twelve contributions to this volume have been developed based on presentations given at a conference titled âReturn to the Origins: The Qurâanâs Reformation of Judaism and Christianity,â which I convened in 2013 with the generous support of the Arts and Humanities Research Council; the six remaining ones have been submitted separately.20 The volume comprises four parts reflecting the different emphases which we can see highlighted in each of the chapters: Part I is titled The Qurâan, the Bible, and the Islamic Tradition, Part II The Qurâan and the Bible; Part III The Qurâan and Judaism, and Part IV The Qurâan and Christianity. The overlap of these four parts is evident, and it is clear that nearly all the chapters engage, at times in substantial ways, in issues spread across all parts of the volume. Yet one of these four emphases arguably takes a leading role in each of the chapters, while each of the four emphases, in turn, has been the intense focus of recent scholarly activity. The following summary of the chapters will therefore briefly introduce key aspects of scholarship on the four topics and then sketch the way in which each of the chapters advances the discussion.
Part I: The Qurâan, the Bible, and the Islamic tradition
The four chapters in the first part of the volume pay close attention to the role which the Islamic tradition itself can play in forming the questions we pose to the Qurâan. This tradition has preserved the Qurâanâs text â the muáčŁáž„af â and it offers its students many ways of understanding its message, especially by preserving cultural memories about the Qurâanâs concrete Arabian historical context, along with a comprehensive lexicon, a grammar, and even a precise order of revelation for each sura (or for parts thereof).21 While traditional scholars â with noteworthy exceptions â have largely remained within the framework c...