1
MUḤAMMAD IN CHRISTIAN
THOUGHT, 1650-1750
In the times of Emperor Charles V (1500-1558), church bells rang in German towns to remind people of the Turkish menace. Turkey (or, more accurately, the Ottoman Empire), although later considered moribund by Europeans, had, at that time, a greater standing than Arabia in politico-economic affairs. Many Western writers referred to ‘Turk’ and ‘Turkey’: these terms were not used by the Ottomans themselves but are often unavoidable. The ‘dread of the Turks’ did not disappear completely even after 1571, when their navy was crushed at the battle of Lepanto by the Holy Alliance of Spain, Venice, and the Papacy. Such a defeat did not necessarily lead to a decisive shift in the balance of sea power, since the Ottomans retained Cyprus, forced the withdrawal of Venice from the Christian alliance in 1573, and conquered Tunisia in 1574.1 More significant was the failure of the Ottomans to capture Vienna in 1683, when they were driven from it for a second time by a coalition of Christian forces. With the ensuing retreat, the long-standing Muslim threat to Europe ended.
Islam and its Prophet did not, however, suddenly disappear from the scene. After the religious animosity of the Middle Ages and the end of the Ottoman threat, a period of relative calm followed, just before the colonial expansion of the nineteenth century. This period may have provided the right atmosphere for a balanced evaluation of the Prophet by the West. It was certainly conducive to a revived interest in the Ottoman Empire and Sunnī Islam (which was the dominant religion of its various peoples). We shall see in Chapter 4 that, despite appearances, the colonial period was not inimical to the diffusion of knowledge about Islam and the Prophet. In the latter part of the seventeenth century, however, European attention began to shift from the Qur’ān to Muḥammad himself, who continued to be perceived as the ‘author’ of the book.
European interest in the ‘other’ was not confined solely to the Ottoman Empire. Although Persia (arch rival to the Ottoman Empire) was late in developing its relations with European countries, it made great strides in the seventeenth century. Persia is of special significance from a theological point of view. At the outset, some Europeans might have been interested in Persia as the birthplace of Zoroaster (founder of the ancient religion of Zoroastrianism) and later as the home of Manes (the heresiarch founder of Manichaeism in the third century A.D.). In the seventeenth century, however, European missionaries primarily encountered Shī‘ī Islam within Persia (this version of Islam had been established there since the beginning of the sixteenth century). It is worth mentioning that Shī‘ī Muslims are to be found in other countries, including Arabia, Iraq, India, and Pakistan, however, only in Persia was this the state religion.
During the reign of Shāh ‘Abbās I (1587-1618) of the Safavid dynasty (1501-1722), ambassadors came from France to take up residence in the capital, Isfahan. The reign of Louis XIII (1610-1643) in France witnessed a constant exchange of ambassadors between the two countries. ‘Abbās also allowed European missionaries to settle in the main towns of his empire. Like travellers and diplomats, Roman Catholic missionaries sought to gain a foothold in the Middle East, but their aims were naturally different from the former; as they were particularly interested in the conversion of Muslims, they were looking for ways to show how misguided these people were. Their activities in the Middle East had been boosted by the foundation of the Sacra Congregatio de Propaganda Fide (in 1622), which was established by the Council of Trent (1545-1563). The conversion of ‘infidels’ formed part of a grand design that had been elaborated in Rome, and the missionaries who were sent to the Orient under the auspices of the Congregatio belonged to various orders: Carmelite, Capucine, Dominican, Augustinian and Jesuit. Eager to specialise in the languages of the countries where they had been posted, some of them acquired a thorough grasp of Persian, Turkish, and Arabic. In the Ottoman Empire, the missionaries were tolerated, and exempt from capitation, but they made few converts among the Muslims and the non-Catholic Christian minorities. They did not meet with any greater success in Persia, although they were welcomed with much courtesy by the Shāh.2
Europeans who came into contact with the Persians (that is, travellers, traders, diplomats, and missionaries), could not fail to be impressed by the affection the Persians showed for members of the Prophet’s family, especially his cousin and son-in-law ‘Alī and his daughter Fāṭima. The greatest sign of affection was, however, reserved for his grandson Ḥusayn, who has always been regarded as a martyr by Shīʿites. For Ḥusayn died tragically and heroically on the battlefield at Karbala in Iraq in 680, while fighting an army of the Umayyads with a handful of men. To Christian missionaries and others, Muḥarram (the festival which is celebrated during the first ten days of the same month with such gusto by Shīʿites) must have recalled memories of passion plays. Travellers could easily note its special significance in the Shīʿite calendar, which is marked by celebrations to commemorate the death of Imām Ḥusayn.3 But their visits, like their interest in the Middle East and its main religion of Islam, were often fleeting. They had different motives from those of the missionaries, and little time or inclination to undertake a thorough evaluation of Islam and its Prophet. So it fell to the Roman Catholic missionaries, who generally stayed longer in the Middle East, to show a more sustained curiosity about Islam and Muḥammad.
Roman Catholic writers
It should be pointed out that missionaries within the Roman Catholic Church were not the only people to develop an interest in Islam and Muḥammad. Indeed, Roman Catholic writers can be divided into two categories: 1) those who never travelled to Muslim lands of the Middle East and elsewhere, yet happily made their observations from home on the basis of (received) textual information and 2) members of the clergy (such as missionaries) who did travel. The latter had the opportunity to encounter aspects of living Islam on their trips abroad. We may, however, begin with one of the most distinguished in the first category, Pascal.
The brilliant Jansenist polemicist, who in the Lettres Provinciales (1656) had denounced laxity in Jesuit thinking, and who was such a keen apologist of the Christian faith, was not likely to let Muḥammad off lightly in the Pensées (1669, 1670). So, in article IX of the text entitled ‘La Perpétuité’, he begins by claiming that all religions other than Christianity are false, because they have no witnesses. He argues that since Muḥammad is lacking in authority, the reasons he supplies rely solely on their own merit and must therefore be powerful to be effective. Pascal proceeds by asking a number of rhetorical questions in the manner of the Lettres Provinciales, and making various statements, which tend to show Muḥammad in a bad light.4
An objective approach is always difficult when one personality is set against another. Pascal asks: ‘Who bears witness to Muḥammad?’ The reply he gives is Muḥammad himself. Pascal wants to judge Muḥammad not by what is obscure in him, but by what is clear, such as his teaching on paradise, which Pascal claims is what makes Muḥammad ridiculous. Pascal reasons that, given the assertion that these less obscure teachings are untenable, it is therefore not possible to take Muḥammad’s obscurities for mysteries. He then begins a series of comparisons between the Qur’ān and the Bible, Muḥammad and Jesus. He admits that obscurities as strange as those of Muḥammad may exist in the Bible, but argues that the Bible also contains admirable truths and clear prophecies that have been accomplished.
Pascal carefully lays the ground for the climax of his argument: a straightforward comparison between Jesus and Muḥammad, the purpose of which is to show how inferior the latter is to the former. On three occasions he harps on the idea that Muḥammad, unlike Jesus, has not been foretold. Apart from repetition, Pascal’s rhetoric consists of a number of antitheses: Muḥammad kills people whereas Jesus has his disciples killed, and Muḥammad chose to be successful in a human way, while Jesus chose to die in the same way. According to Pascal, one should not conclude that since Muḥammad was successful Jesus too could have been, but rather that since Muḥammad was successful Jesus had to die. He claims that anyone could have done what Muḥammad did (that is, that he did not perform any miracles) and that no one can do what Jesus did. He hints that Muḥammad had himself called prophet without having taught any mystery, and that he did not engage in any moral teaching. He finally seeks to reinforce the myth that Muḥammad forbade his disciples to read the Qur’ān. One recognises here some of the medieval criticisms levelled against Muḥammad, which included the accusations that he preached ignorance, propagated Islam by force, and did not perform any miracles. In fact, Muḥammad never claimed that he could perform miracles, and far from forbidding his disciples to study the Qur’ān, he made some of them memorise it in his lifetime so that an authorised text would remain for posterity.5 Thus numerous commentators of the Qur’ān have appeared since the earliest times.
On the whole, Roman Catholic missionaries in the Middle East, on encountering living Islam, appeared to have little interest in commenting on the visual aspects of religious ceremonies and contemporary events they witnessed.6 They tried rather to explain the historical factors that lay behind the divisions in Islam and to give a partial evaluation of Muḥammad’s role in history. Among these missionaries was the Capucine friar Gabriel de Chinon, who spent twenty years in Isfahan from 1640. He learned Armenian, Turkish, Persian, and other oriental languages, speaking them with ease. Having set up a mission of his order at Tauri...