It is undeniable that colonialism and post-colonial nationalism have wreaked havoc on many forms of life. I am acutely aware of this writing from India, where I am currently doing fieldwork, and where the colonial historical project of vilifying Muslim rule in India has now become the dominant political discourse, with terrifying consequences. (And the Hindutva project, like many post-colonial projects, shares that sense of a break from the past, which must now be recovered.) But as Bardawil’s reading of The Arabic Freud allows us to see, this sense of rupture and alienation was not the only way in which the colonized responded to the colonizer. There were also—perhaps minor, as Bardawil indicates—traditions in which people like Yusuf Murad could be hospitable to the intellectual excitement of Freud and bring it together with the insights of classical Islamic writers, like Ibn ‘Arabi, to create new forms of knowledge, “neither of the East nor of the West.” El Shakry points us to a new direction of research: to think about the plenitude of time and the persistence of traditions—and hence the possibilities of productive conceptual dialogue—despite the brute facts of colonialism and its ruptures.
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Compulsory things: Some reflections on Hirschkind and Doostdar
by
Daniel A. Stolz
In an illuminating exchange, Charles Hirschkind and Alireza Doostdar debate the compulsory quality of modern scientific reasoning. Doostdar, in The Iranian Metaphysicals, emphasizes the agency of Iran’s “metaphysical” practitioners. Modern science, on this view, has opened the doors of knowledge production to social classes outside the old scholarly elite. As new “possibilities for reasoning become available,” Doostdar shows, a motley cast of healers, Spiritualists, and occultists appropriate them for their own, frequently heterodox, ends. Hirschkind, however, worries that this analysis is too optimistic: it presumes that the modern subject apprehends science through a free market of ideas. In fact, certain manners of thought are so basic to our everyday functioning that to say we choose them is to overstate our self-awareness, let alone our free will. “Scientific rationalism is not simply an epistemological possibility,” Hirschkind writes, “but an ontological condition.”
A liturgy of the soul
by
Omnia El Shakry
Reading and responding to Knot of the Soul deeply signifies a longstanding dialogue with my friend and interlocutor Stefania Pandolfo. For a decade now, we have discussed our shared interest in questions centered around ʿilm al-nafs—the “science of the soul.” What does it mean to talk about a “science of the soul,” both in its historical and ethnographic instantiations? Can the topographies of the nafs (soul, spirit, psyche) be considered and compared across diverse discursive traditions and intellectual formations? If my work unearths a genealogical connection between the Islamic concept of al-la-shuʿur (an unknown-known) and the Freudian notion of the unconscious, Pandolfo’s work explores a tradition of Islamic therapeutic practice that is convivial with the unconscious. If the nafs is, within this tradition, a space where the Divine can be manifested, then it is also a space for the potential transformation of the soul. What is this space of transformation within Islamic practice and does it find echoes in the psychoanalytic space of the clinic? Crucially, such questions are not merely academic but concern how we engage psychoanalysis in our own lives.
Time, gender-bending, and the medieval church
On continuity and rupture: A reply to Elshakry and Quadri
by
Daniel A. Stolz
By pulling at different threads of the book’s argument, Elshakry and Quadri expose a basic tension between the book’s emphasis on the emergence of new Islamic practices and debates in the early twentieth century, and the book’s insistence on tracing this radical moment to the oft-invisible work of people who did not see themselves as radicals at all. Rather than try to resolve this tension, I will take Elshakry’s and Quadri’s remarks as inspiration to clarify a few of its implications. . . . Quadri’s eloquent commentary underscores the depth of the fissure between the knowledge long cultivated by Muslim scholars (ulama), on the one hand, and the new sciences that were increasingly promoted by the late Ottoman state, on the other. . . . In Elshakry’s thoughtful discussion, however, a contrasting theme comes to the fore. Elshakry acknowledges the many ways in which Egyptian ulama practiced the celestial sciences with premises, purposes, and techniques that differed from their French counterparts. Her focus, nevertheless, draws our attention to facts that suggest commonality and continuity.