Franz Rosenthal. Encyclopaedia of the Qur’an. Editor: Jane Dammen McAuliffe. Volume 2, Brill Academic Publishers, 2003.
Introductory Remark
This entry deals not with the Qurʾan as a source of historical information (for which see Paret, Geschichtsquelle, and, for instance, Faruqi, Muslim historiography or Sherif, A guide) nor with its influence upon world history but with its view of history as can be outlined by present-day historians and, secondarily, with its influence upon the development of later Muslim historiography. Although as a religious and metaphysical document, the Qurʾan is not meant to be a work of history, it deals to an astonishingly large extent with events of the past and is imbued with a deep sense of history in its various dimensions. Yet, all its different approaches to understanding the world are in perfect harmony with one another.
The historical terminology of the Qurʾan is mostly not the one characteristic of later Muslim historiography and, obviously, not the one that modern thought on history and historiography might wish to find in it. For instance, the word for “story” (q-s-s), while not always employed in the sense of “history,” is the very commonly used qurʾanic equivalent for it, and the same applies to other historical terms. The distinction, favored by modern historians basing themselves on research and speculative theory, between what might be accepted as historically true and correct and what might be perceived as wrong or imagined data and theories likewise does not apply. Qurʾanic statements about the past and the entire historical process were not seen as (possibly fictional) “stories” (Norris, Qisas elements) and certainly not as “myths” (Beltz, Die Mythen) or the like, whatever we might think about them today. Even if they were chosen for the particular meanings they seem to contain, that is, for achieving a definite purpose (now often called “salvation history”) and not just for presenting historical data as such, they were accepted as firmly established historical facts and seen as representing true past reality.
Our source can be only the Qurʾan itself. All the later information of ḥadith and exegetical works (tafsir) is indispensable for any understanding of the Qurʾan, and remains unconsciously present in the mind of everybody who studies the qurʾanic text. However, the reliability of these sources as a guide to the language and meaning of many passages of the Qurʾan remains far too uncertain to be accepted unquestioningly. In particular, the commentators’ motivation for finding historical specificity in all contexts — the “historicization” of the qurʾanic text in the tafsir enterprise (cf. Rippin, Tafsir) — is more of a hindrance than a help for the historian.
The question of whether the Prophet’s views of the historical process underwent changes during his lifetime does not, it seems, admit of a sufficiently well-grounded answer (for a systematic attempt to establish a chronological sequence in the Qurʾan’s acquaintance with and views of biblical material, see Speyer, Erzählungen, 464-92 and passim). Although the information under discussion here is naturally provided in greater detail by the later revelations, the underlying conceptualization of historical thought is seemingly rather uniform and consistent throughout the Qurʾan.
The Historiographical Climate in the Near East of the Sixth and Seventh Centuries
The rich historical literature that existed among the Syriac-speaking Christians in the Near East was almost exclusively directed toward ecclesiastical history and the biography and martyrology of saints. Writings of this nature were certainly known to Christians in southern Arabia and, perhaps, central Arabia, but their historical details, we may guess, cannot have been of much interest to the Prophet. However, their principal purpose “to demonstrate what God has done for us in his grace, and what we in our wickedness have presumed to do in opposition to him” (Brock, North Mesopotamia, 52), and to teach a moral lesson (Witakowski, Syriac Chronicle, 171) corresponds well to a very prominent aspect of the qurʾanic view of history. Regrettably, we have no way of knowing how much if anything of this material could have been available to Muḥammad in some form or other. Likewise, the Qurʾan shows no specific acquaintance with Persian, or any other, historical literature.
The traditional Arab narratives of genealogical relationships and the storied happenings of the Arabian past and its “battle days” (ayyam, the word itself occurs with reference to the present but not to the past in Q 3:140), the south Arabian recollections of important, more recent events, the biblical information from the creation of the world as known and discussed by Jews and Christians — all this constituted the stuff of history as reflected in the Qurʾan. The problem here is not the high probability of oral transmission but the question of the possibility of circulation in some written form within the Prophet’s orbit. A great reverence for anything written is obvious throughout the Qurʾan. It leaves itself open, however, to two contradictory interpretations; it may indicate either familiarity with “books” or, less likely, their virtual unavailability. If the references to the “scrolls” (suḥuf) of past prophets cannot be taken to indicate the actual presence of such works, if any existed, in their written form, the mention of “papyrus writings” (qaraṭis) in such a context (Q 6:91) is quite likely to show the existence of actual books, as does the reference to “reading” and “writing” in Q 29:48; “reading” them was, of course, mainly a process of a literate person reading them aloud to his listeners. Of particular significance is the repeated and much debated reference to the asaṭir al-awwalin (Q 6:25; 8:31; 16:24; 23:83; 25:5; 27:68; 46:17; 68:15; 83:13). It clearly means something like “stories of the ancients” and indicates the negative opinion held by Muḥammad’s opponents of his revelations, in particular inasmuch as they dealt with past history. Asaṭir corresponds exactly to Greek historia but is considered not to be identical with it etymologically. The word would later allow the reconstruction of a singular form usṭura which, for instance, might be used in due course to translate something like Greek (heroic) myth (Aristotle, Eth. Nicom., 1100a8, ed. Badawi, 74), but the pl. asaṭir as used in the Qurʾan probably had no singular and is most likely to be connected with the root s-ṭ-r in the meaning of “to write.” Thus, it could indicate an acquaintance with works of historical information, but again, no details as to the mode of such acquaintance are available to us. Later traditions explain the phrase as alluding to slander by Christians in al-ḥira or to Persian historical mythology circulating there, but it would be hazardous to project them into the qurʾanic passages (cf. Rosenthal, Asaṭir al-awwalin).
In sum, it might be suggested with a certain degree of likelihood that particular views of history together with the historiographic material supporting them existed in some circles in the Arabian peninsula and found their reflection in the Qurʾan. This reflection was, however, of a general and commonplace nature, and possible lines of connection remain as yet concealed from us.
Past, Present, and Future Are One in the Historical Process, Leading to Certain Views on Politics and Society
The entire world in all its variety was created by the one creator at one particular moment. It follows that oneness was the ideal state for it at all times and that to which it should always aspire. As the beginning was one, so the expected end of the world is one for everyone and everything. Whatever is and takes place in between these two definite points of created time, no matter how varied in detail, follows a set overall pattern. Thus the history of the past and of the future, including that of the present, is fundamentally uniform. No distinction between the three modes of time need be made by the observer of human history.
The ideal oneness was constantly interrupted by the tendency of the evil force of Satan to provoke splits among humanity. It proved invariably attractive to human beings and caused them to form self-contained rival groups. Thus, in the very center of events, there was always a “party of God” (ḥizb Allah, Q 5:56; 58:22) and a “party of Satan” (ḥizb al-shayṭan, Q 58:19; cf. 35:6). True and proven religious knowledge (ʿilm, bayyinat) moreover, when it asserted itself in the world, also increased the tendency to form hostile associations (Q 2:253; 42:14). In fact, God had indeed good reasons for not wishing to interfere in the divisive process and thereby accelerate the reestablishment on earth of the desirable oneness of humanity (Q 5:48; 11:118; 16:93; 42:8); under certain circumstances, even a recourse to violence (q.v.) might be necessary and beneficial (Q 2:251). The result throughout history was constant fighting between contending groups. People would kill each other and be especially hard on the prophets who were sent to them to command justice (Q 3:21). There were always at least two groups, believers in the true religion and non-believers, who fought each other, down to the time of the Prophet. The battles they fought had varying outcomes: “those days (of battle) we alternate between people” (wa-tilka l-ayyamu nudawiluha bayna l-nasi, Q 3:140), but would, it was hoped, end in the victory of the true religion. This desired final outcome was not yet achieved in the Prophet’s lifetime. For as there was constant fighting in the past, so there is fighting going on in the present — no matter that fighting in the sacred month is a great sin (Q 2:217). The Prophet himself had to admit eventually that fighting would be required to the end of the world before the new religion might fully succeed in its historical task of reestablishing complete unity (Q 4:76, 84, 90). Only at the final hour is the contest between good and evil (q.v.) among human beings to be decided once and for all. Change can come only as an internal process with people changing themselves; external intervention by God would be of no avail in this process (Q 13:11). Meanwhile, the splintering into groups will go on, and with it the fighting and the recurring destruction of human settlements as a punishment for acting against God’s plan for the world (Q 7:4, etc).
These basic insights dominate all historical development. Therefore, it is not surprising that a great variety of terms are employed in the Qurʾan to refer to the in-born human urge to form groups. Some are ordinary terms for subgroups such as fariq, ṭaʾifa, fiʿa, or fawj. It deserves notice that the terminology for tribal subgroups so highly developed in Arabian bedouin (q.v.) society is missing and even major tribal groups (qabila, shaʾb, ʿashira) are mentioned very rarely, suggesting a general sedentary/urban perspective on history. Other terms may have entered qurʾanic Arabic in a foreign, possibly religious context, such as ḥizb and even shiʿa (q.v.); while this is not fully provable, it is clearly true with respect to milla(Jeffery, For. vocab., 108 f., 190 f., 268 f.).
The most prominent term from the historical viewpoint is umma (pl. umam). The word was commonly used in the Semitic languages and no doubt existed in Arabic long before the Prophet’s time but in its qurʾanic usage may have been influenced by religious notions (for a brief résumé of some of the scholarly discussion, see Humphreys, Islamic history, 95 f.). It continued its long history throughout Islam to the present day, which resulted in its assuming shades of meaning not germane to the Qurʾan where (in addition to other unrelated meanings) it simply means associations of humans (or jinn [q.v.]) of any size, preferably large but also comparatively small. One umma may be more numerous than another (Q 16:92); the word may, for instance, indicate a minority group and, in the next verse, serve to gloss the foreign term asbaṭ that refers to the division of the Israelites into twelve tribes (Q 7:159 f.). While the number of umam actively making history was infinite, the original and desirable state was that of one and only one umma (Q 2:213; 5:48; 10:19; 11:118; 16:93; 21:92; 23:52; 42:8; 43:33). The prophets of the past tried in vain to reestablish the unified community (umma waḥida), but it must and will be reestablished (for an authoritative third/ninth century Muslim interpretation of Q 2:213, see Gätje, The Qurʾan, 92-9). The destructive diverting of the flow of history caused by the permanent phenomenon in human societies of division into umam, especially the two irreconcilably hostile groups consisting of unbelievers and believers, must eventually come to an end. Other terms used for the human splintering process are not very different from umma and by and large tell the same story about such division as the driving force of history.
Associations of any kind are usually defined by some kind of ideology and characterized by highly conservative attitudes. They possess an unwillingness to change, which even divinely appointed messengers prove unable to overcome. All of them “are glad with what they have” in the way of spiritual instruction (kullu ḥizbin bi-ma ladayhim fariḥuna, Q 23:53; 30:32) and are smugly content with their activities past and present (Q 6:108). Like the Meccans, they cling everywhere to their customary rituals (mansak, Q 22:34, 67). Even at the very end, groups, like individuals, have their own “book” in which their deeds are recorded (Q 45:28).
For the political organization of society, this has certain consequences. The original oneness of humanity is founded on the fact that humankind had its origin in one living being. Almost immediately after his creation, man was individuated sexually into man and woman, as, for instance, expressed in Q 4:1: “Fear your lord who created you from one soul and created from it its mate and spread out from them many men and women.” Such sexual individuation, however, detracts from the historically exemplary status of human oneness as little as does the subsequent proliferation of individual human beings. The resulting formation of human clusters such as families, towns, and larger conglomerations required direction and guidance in real life. From God being necessarily one, it logically followed that only one individual at a time could serve as head of kingdom and political authority. The Qurʾan when speaking about governance merely assumes this fact and has no occasion to be specific on this point. It was, of course, understood that the selection of a king was a grave responsibility as exemplified by the case of Saul (q.v.; Ṭalut, Q 2:246 f.), that a good ruler would rely on the advice of select numbers of aristocrats (naqib, malaʾ, as did Moses (q.v.; 7:155; cf. 5:12) or the Queen of Sheba (q.v.; Q 27:29), and that a tyrannical (jabbar) ruler would almost automatically stir up rebellious activities against him as happened to Pharaoh (q.v.) in his dealings with the Israelites. Against this background, all events in history have unfolded and taken, and then lost, their ephemeral place in the world.
Past History
1. Chronology
The various ways of calculating eras that were in use in the Near East at the time did not leave Arabia untouched, but the extent and the type of dating by years practiced in Mecca and Medina during the Prophet’s lifetime are not known, although the older Arabic system of the year’s division into months (q.v.) plays a prominent role and the abolition of the intercalary month (nasiʾ, Q 9:37) was a far-reaching measure of lasting impact. The speed with which the hijri era took root very soon after his death adds more probability to the likelihood that Muḥammad and his environment were familiar with the need for approximate or precise historical dates. Incidentally, negative dating by counting units like years as desirable for the recording for past events was not known then and was, in fact, not conceptually possible before modern times. The Qurʾan contains no hint as to the existence of taʾrikh as the term for chronology and, eventually, history and historiography. And, above all, while basic time reckoning as made possible by the creation of the sun (q.v.) and the moon (q.v.) was seen as a very important part of the established world order (Q 10:5; 17:12), exact chronology was understandably not at the heart of qurʾanic historical thought. However, the Qurʾan reveals much concern with chronological knowledge. As we would expect, this concern often finds expression in connection with inherited biblical and other information.
The six days of the creation of the world (Q 11:7; 57:4) suggested a different length for divine, as against human, time reckoning. This is echoed in the ancient equation of one divine day with 1,000 human years (Q 22:47; 32:5; cf. Ps 90:4; 2Pet 3:8; for the continuity of the tradition in the Near East, see, in particular, Jubilees 4:30, trans. Charles, 41n; and Witakowski, Syriac chronicle, 70 f.). Such a supernatural day may also be said to equate 50,000 years for measuring the time that angels and the spirit require to climb the ladder to God’s majesty (Q 70:4). From subsequent world history, it was known that Noah (q.v.) achieved longevity and spent 950 years among his people (Q 29:14), which, it may be noted, corresponds to his entire lifetime according to Genesis 9:29. Joseph’s (q.v.) seven-year cycles (Q 12:47 f.) figure as a chronological fact as does the Israelites’ sojourn of forty years in the desert (Q 5:26), among further dates in the biography of Moses (Q 26:18; 28:27, the latter passage involving other biblical episodes). Muḥammad seems to have worried about the dearth and inaccuracy of the data available to him. This becomes particularly clear in the discussion of the history of the Seven Sleepers where the Prophet had to acknowledge the lack of chronological information. He worried about the uncertainty of the length of time they spent sleeping in the cave. They themselves did not know it, and the indicated precise number of 309 years is also uncertain. In the end, it must be left to God to have the correct information as to the accurate duration of their miraculous sleep (Q 18:11 f., 19, 25 f.). For the history of the future so closely integrated in Muḥammad’s worldview, any dates are left, understandably and wisely, unstated (see also below under “f”).
Beyond these more or less specific data, a pervasive concern with relative chronology is transparent in the persistent use of the term “before” (qabl-, min qablu) to express relative chronology and bring some order into the course of events with respect to the sequence in which the history of divine revelation had unrolled. It was a convenient means to set the past clearly apart from the present. It took on a formulaic character and appears sometimes where it might as well have been left unstated, as when the jinn are stated to have been created before man (Q 15:27). “Those who were before you” or “before them” distinguishes one group from the other on the temporary level and at the same time suggests the overall unity of human history; both you and those before you were created by God (Q 2:21) and received revelations (Q 2:4). The phrase is used to indicate a historical sequence where such sequence had been disregarded in the emotional fervor of the context, as when, in an enumeration of the prophets of the past, it appears that Noah is stated to have been earlier than Isaac (q.v.) and Jacob (q.v.; Q 6:84 f.), although in such enumerations the chronological sequence tends to be conspicuously disregarded (Q 50:12). It may be noted that it is always Noah who is defined according to relative time (Q 51:46; 53:52; 54:9). In connection with Abraham (q.v.), his chronological priority to the Torah (q.v.) and the Gospels that were revealed “after his time” (min baʿdihi) constitutes a most important issue in the Qurʾan’s developing construction of religious history (Q 3:65). “Before” — and occasionally “later” — clearly expresses the understanding of history as something unfolding over time.
The frequent reference to “the first” or “the former” (awwalun), once also al-aqdamuna (Q 26:76), serves the same purpose. “First/former” often stands alone as, for instance, in asaṭir al-awwalin, or it may be attached to “(fore)fathers” or “generations” (qurun, note the combination with “before you” in Q 10:13; 11:116, cf. also Q 20:128; 28:43). These terms also by themselves convey the idea of some event or condition in past history. The awwalun had their written texts (zubur, Q 26:196) and revealed writings (al-suḥuf al-ula, Q 20:133; 87:18). They had their ways of doing things (sunna, Q 8:38; 15:13; 18:55; 35:43) and were gifted with preparedness (khuluq) for their actions (Q 26:137); this appears to be the meaning of sunna and khuluq here, although the context strongly suggests something not done by them but being done to them (Paret, Kommentar, 88). Most of what the awwalun did was not right. They belittled their prophets (Q 15:10 f.; 43:6 f.) and were thoroughly misled in their attitudes (Q 37:71), but the way they behaved is a thing of the past (wa-maḍa mathalu l-awwalina, Q 43:8; cf. also wamathalan mina lladhina khalaw min qablikum, Q 24:34). Whether the awwalun were good or evil, very remote or comparatively near in time, the references to them serve the purpose of evoking the past as history to be noticed and remembered. Only God has no history in the human sense, as he is “the first and the last” (Q 57:3).
2. Historical memory
The physical abstraction of a particular brain function for remembering the past appears to have been unrealized in the Near East and thus one cannot expect to find it in any form in the Qurʾan. The common Semitic root dh-k-r which comes to mind first when dealing with the subject of memory appears in it many times, but it possesses various noticeably different meanings that do not always correspond to what is covered under “remembering.” This applies not only to Arabic but also to the other Semitic languages as far back as the earliest records we possess (cf. Schottroff, “Gedenken”). In connection with “remembering” God’s benefactions, dh-k-r is applied to historical events such as those that happened to Noah or the Israelites and Pharaoh (Q 2:47 f., 122; 7:69, 74); in this context, dh-k-r is basically remembering the past, although the hortatory implications of such remembrance are also clearly present. Giving thought and heeding is, indeed, the prime connotation of the root in the Qurʾan and also applies to the reciprocal remembrance between God and human beings (Q 2:200, 152), which is considered desirable. Where the fifth conjugation of dh-k-r occurs (Q 2:269; 3:7, etc.), for instance, commentators feel compelled, and with good reason, somehow to detect a combination of more than one connotation. Thus for instance, al-Ṭabari (d. 310/923; Tafsir, iii, 61, ad Q 2:269) has “being exhorted… and thus remembering.” Not having the commentators’ luxury of exposition by paraphrase, modern translators waver and show uncertainty in their choice of terms. Many opt for something like “take warning.” Arberry offers a courageous or, perhaps, foolhardy example of sticking throughout to plain “remember,” as he also does in connection with the occurrences of the noun tadhkira (e.g. Q 69:12). On the other hand, to give one more arbitrarily chosen example, Maḥ-moud M. Ayoub (The Qurʾan, i, 268; ii, 20) opts for “reflect” (in Q 2:269) and “remember” (in Q 3:7).
Although no unambiguous testimony to the role of memory in the occupation with history thus appears to exist in the Qurʾan, we are justified in reaching the conclusion that the application of memory to the past was sensed to be a positive activity that was highly recommendable and constantly to be practiced. It is a great help in maintaining concern with historical events that should not be forgotten and strongly stimulates such concern. According to the sparse available evidence, however, it was not felt to be, and was not, a separate force of its own in the historical consciousness of the Qurʾan.
3. Biblical history
To assess the Qurʾan’s historical understanding of information found in the Bible as well as in later Jewish or Christian elaboration, it is always necessary as a first step to identify and compare the source common to them and the Qurʾan. While Christian material would definitely derive from Christian sources, the material from the Hebrew Bible could, of course, have also been transmitted through Christian intermediaries. This question has not been fully settled to the satisfaction of all (cf. Rosenthal, in Torrey, The Jewish foundation, introduction) and possibly can only be decided, if at all, on a case by case basis.
The biblical information is often designated by Arabic roots in ordinary usage such as n-b-ʾ(from which is derived nabaʾ, “information”), which may indicate reporting on past and contemporary (Q 15:49-51) as well as future happenings (Q 22:72), or the slightly more specialized q-s-s(from whence qissa, qasas, “narration,”) which is also occasionally found combined with n-b-ʾ(Q 7:101; 11:100, 120; 20:99). Words that in later historiography were fundamental occur very sparely. Ḥadith (lit. “event,” “happening”) thus may refer to the “story of Moses” (Q 20:9), parallel to nabʾ of Moses (Q 28:2 f.) or Abraham (Q 26:69, cf. 51:24); the plural aḥadith indicates that what happened to past nations made their history a warning example (Q 23:44; 34:19). Khabar (pl. akhbar, lit. “tidings”), where it occurs, can hardly be understood as historical information (Q 9:94; 99:4).
Significantly, the true and real character of such historical information is repeatedly stressed. As the divine revelation received by Muḥammad is described as truthful (bil-ḥaqq, Q 5:48), thus the reports on the story of the sons of Adam, of Jesus (q.v.), and of the Seven Sleepers are marked as “true” (al-ḥaqq; Q 3:62; bi-l-ḥaqq, 5:27; 18:13), and the creation of the heavens and the earth by a wise and knowledgeable (khabir) deity is a reality (bi-l-ḥaqq, Q 6:73). Stories such as those of Joseph and Moses in his dealings with Pharaoh are not freely invented fiction (ḥadithan yuftara) but a lesson ʿibra) from history for those capable of understanding and those fearful of what might happen to them in the future (Q 12:111; 79:15-26).
The Qurʾan offers a long and coherent narrative only for Joseph (in Q 12) and, to a lesser degree, the Seven Sleepers (in Q 18). Its view of the consecutive unfolding and total expanse of biblical history has to be reconstructed from numerous, mostly brief passages scattered throughout it. Speyer (Erzählungen) has shown how such a reconstruction can be successfully accomplished and lead to a coherent picture of the relationship of the Qurʾan with the biblical tradition: History and time begin with the creation of the world and its inhabitants living on earth as well as the majestic bodies in the heavens; Satan, the fallen angel, simultaneously introduces the element of temptation and evil that was destined to pervade the entire future course of history. The totality of these activities establishes the existence and power of an almighty God giving history a lasting metaphysical imprint. What comes thereafter and continues throughout the ages, takes place on the human level. It is perceived as a seamless lesson in ethics and moral behavior, which is exemplified by the actions of Cain and Abel; the break with the past under Noah; and the powerful influences exerted by the patriarchs, first and foremost among them Abraham whose life, among many other important events, includes the instructive happenings surrounding Lot (q.v.) and his family.
The widening stage of history is illustrated by Joseph and glorified by the events that took place under Moses. The latter’s attempts to set history on its right course are marred by such spectacular aberrations of man as the worship of the golden calf and the excessive accumulation of wealth by Korah (q.v.; Qarun), which expose the ever-present danger of materialistic corruption. The imperatives facing royal leadership become tangible in the person of David (q.v.) and, with particular force, in the rule of Solomon (q.v.). All these events, and many minor episodes concerning other figures from the Bible, are widely separated in time but held together by an unbroken chain of divine messengers as the agents chosen to attempt to straighten the course of history with their unchanging message. That message would have saved the world long ago, if it had only been accepted and not violently rejected by humanity at successive stages. The singular suggestion is once made that the procession of ever new messengers following one another in irregularly spaced succession might have been halted at some time (Q 40:34), but it was branded as totally unreal and untrue. Rather, sporadic periods without messengers (sing. fatra, Q 5:19) might have occurred. The divine revelation does not deal with the history of all of the messengers (Q 4:164) as only God knows it all (Q 14:9). From the times of the Hebrew Bible, however, the prophetic succession continued uninterruptedly to the time of Jesus (q.v.) whose history illustrated a higher level of religious impact upon human thought and behavior. Narratives surrounding his birth and childhood bring the figure of his mother Mary (q.v.) to prominence and presage her importance as a model for female emulation. And Christian virtue as a factor in history found another expression in the tale of the Seven Sleepers, which was cherished throughout the Near East. Miracles were accepted as true historical occurrences throughout this long period but with the clear implication that they were the preserve of the messengerial succession that reached its final conclusion with the prophet Muḥammad.
Since this world history is viewed from the Arabian peninsula, it is not surprising that a certain tendency to center it on that region as closely as possible is discernible. An example would be the apparent placement in Arabia of Mount al-Judi where Noah’s ark came to rest when the flood receded (Q 11:44); at least, there is no indication to the contrary which would locate the mountain outside of it. There also is no sense that the story of the Seven Sleepers unfolded anywhere far from Arabia. On the other hand, the role of Egypt (q.v.) as located in a rather distant part of the world is taken for granted. And the inclusion of a geographical end of the earth in journeys reported in sura 18 under the names of Moses and the “two-horned” Dhu l-Qarnayn (who presumably can be identified with Alexander the Great) appears to hint at an awareness of global history. It fits the Qurʾan’s general picture of the way the world was created and of the oneness of humankind. The history of the past is claimed to be a global phenomenon since those remote days known through Judaism and Christianity.
4. Pre-Islamic Arabian history
The means to assess the Qurʾan’s adaptation of Jewish and Christian history are available to us in the Bible but a corrective is almost entirely lacking for a critical understanding of pre-Islamic Arabian history as mirrored in the Qurʾan. Occasional references in ancient Arabic poetry can be adduced in this connection to offer some corroboration. Archaeology in central and northern Arabia is far from the point where it could furnish secure and helpful data for the elucidation of qurʾanic statements, which, however, may anyway turn out to be beyond confirmation by archaeological evidence.
Over the centuries, south Arabian high civilization, which by the time of Muḥammad also included significant contributions from Jews and Christians, had extended its influence to central Arabia. South Arabia’s close ties with Ethiopia just across a sea strait brought another part of the world within the ken of the Prophet’s environment. While certain terms in the Qurʾan indisputably reflect these ties, historical reminiscences, as far as we can tell, are scarce. The quite detailed story of the Queen of Sheba (see Lassner, Demonizing the queen) did not come directly from south Arabia but is based upon the biblical tradition. The names of Sabaʾ (Q 34:15) and Tubbaʿ (q.v.; Q 44:37; 50:14) are mentioned in close connection with Solomon and other persons and events of ancient biblical times. In the case of Sabaʾ, however, flooding that resulted from (the breaking of) the dam (sayl al-ʿarim Q 34:16 [the latter a south Arabian word]), is mentioned as the cause of a devastating catastrophe that befell the Sabaeans and there can be no doubt that this was a reference to an actual event that had taken place in the Yemen (q.v.) in recent memory. It has been suggested (Müller, Marib) that among several similar problems with the dam, the one referred to in the Qurʾan “occurred only at the beginning of the seventh century.” If correct, this would put the event in the lifetime of Muḥammad (see “d” below) and thus be something rather singular in the cycle of reported divine warnings from the past. On the other hand, the event connected with an elephant in sura 105, can, it seems, safely be connected to sixth-century southern Arabia, but it should be noted that the text of the Qurʾan does not give any clear hint as to location or date and furnishes no explanatory details to confirm the historical context. Thus it is not surprising that even in this case, an attempt has been made to reinterpret it completely and divorce it from south Arabia (see De Prémare, Les éléphants).
Much more prominent are events mentioned in the Qurʾan, and no doubt viewed as historical, concerning seemingly more northern peoples and areas of the Arabian peninsula that we are not able to locate precisely. The historical reality of some of these has been doubted, sometimes even to the extent of suggesting, without convincing proof, that the names of Arabic prophets such as Saliḥ (q.v.) and Hud (q.v.) were free inventions. The historicity of the Thamud (q.v.), however, is well attested, and assuming that the asḥab al-ḥijr(Q 15:80) are to be equated with them, they were presumably known as located around al-ḥijr in northern Arabia. The Ad (q.v.) and “Iram (q.v.) of the columns” (Q 89:7) have so far remained historically less tangible. Many other figures that populate the qurʾanic references to Arabia (e.g. asḥab al-rass; asḥab al-ayka) totally escape identification. In the Qurʾan, their usual association with biblical figures would suggest a location in time of rather remote antiquity; nevertheless, they somehow give the impression of being close to Muḥammad’s Arabian environment.
However great our ignorance of details, it is obvious that the qurʾanic vision of history has fully succeeded in flawlessly incorporating its post-biblical Arabian phase into the large picture of a succession of prophets and their rejection that was always accompanied by devastating occurrences. It is possible that attempts in this direction had already been made by Arabian residents belonging to earlier religious groups, but it seems more likely that this construction of an unbroken flow of history from the earliest past down to the present time as well as the place of Mu-ḥammad was particular to the historical vision of the Qurʾan.
5. Contemporary history
Muḥammad saw himself as a crucial figure in world history and, like the biblical prophets, keenly felt his responsibility to be an observer and arbiter of his society. The Qurʾan therefore deals remarkably much with events concerning him personally and, to a very small extent, with historical happenings in more remote regions that took place in his time. Most contemporary events, however, are presented, as was appropriate in the context, in a form that, at least for us, is cryptic and makes their historical import hard to evaluate. The usefulness of these references for modern historians in reconstructing the actual biography of the Prophet is limited. They have been correctly described as “obscure allusions” (Sellheim, Prophet, 38) and the possibility of accurate historical evaluation is now generally approached with a skepticism that differs only in degree, as is made clear, for instance, by the works of Schoeler (Charakter und Authentie) and Rubin (The eye of the beholder).
Apart from the somewhat uncertain assumption that events to the south of Mecca and Medina (q.v.) on which the Qurʾan commented were contemporary (see “c” above), a larger historical context is mentioned expressly only in sura 30. Divine support for the nascent community of Muslims is said to be expected from the Byzantines (q.v.; al-Rum) gaining victory after their previous defeat. The unnamed enemy can safely be identified as the Persians, but another vocalization of the Arabic text could easily yield the opposite meaning that the Byzantines’ victory was followed by their later defeat. Either meaning could be fitted in the historical context as it is known to us; the greater likelihood, however, is on the side of the former alternative (Paret, Kommentar, 388). Be this as it may, the passage is a precious testimony to an awareness of events in the larger world outside Arabia and their integration in the Qurʾan’s historical consciousness.
Beyond allusions to events, references are found to a few individuals by name such as Zayd (Q 33:37) and Muḥammad himself (Q 47:2; 48:29) or by supposedly transparent nicknames as Abu Lahab and his wife (Q 111:1, 4). The qurʾanic attestations of the names of certain localities, such as Mecca (also Umm al-qura or “this place”), Medina (Yathrib), and the battle (yawm) at ḥunayn (q.v.; Q 9:25 f.) are significant as giving a feel for the historical environment. Descriptions of contemporary warfare (e.g. Q 47:4, 35) contribute further to clarifying the situation in which contemporary events took place. Past events serve frequently as a foil for what happens among Muḥammad’s contemporaries, who unfortunately used the behavior of their forefathers as an excuse for their own misdeeds (Q 7:28; cf. also 22:42 f.); and certain individuals of the past such as Abraham and Moses are held up to them as guides and examples (imam, uswa), again with a conspicuous lack of success (Q 2:104; 11:17; 33:21; 60:4, 6). The proper or improper conduct exhibited by women of the past such as the wives of Noah, Lot, and Pharaoh as well as Mary, the daughter of ʿImran (q.v.; Q 66:12), is understood as being valid for the present. All of it significantly illuminates the extension of past world history to the present.
6. The history of the future
The predictability of the future course of history is an urgent concern for Muḥammad. Indeed, it is the true core of his divine vocation. Full historical consciousness must take account of the future as it does of the past, although the succession of divine messengers has come to an end once and for all with the prophet Muḥammad.
There will be a day of judgment and an end to the world as hitherto known. To believe in it is equivalent to the belief in God (Q 2:8, 62). As God created the world, he will surely bring it back (Q 21:104) after the end, the implication being that this will be in another form of incarnation and inspiritization in harmony with the known features of the afterlife. The events that will take place at the end are described colorfully and dramatically, but no date of any kind is given. The end of the world has its “definite term” (ajal musamma). It may be near (Q 33:63), but only God has knowledge about when it will occur (Q 7:187; 79:42-46). A definite term, in fact, exists for everything in the world (Q 14:10; 46:3). But on the last day, the sinners do not know how long they had stayed in their graves (Q 20:102 f.; 30:55 f.), nor do those who were saved know with certainty the length of their stay on earth (Q 23:112 f.). The time for the condemned to spend in hell (q.v.) may be described merely as “long years” (aḥqab, Q 78:23), but, in general, a root indicating long lasting or eternal sojourn (kh-l-d) is used to describe the final destination of human beings after resurrection (q.v.) in either paradise (q.v.) or hell (e.g. Q 2:39, 81 f.).
The Qurʾan’s Historical Vision and Its Influence on Muslim Historiography
It would seem futile to attempt establishing a connection between the techniques of Muslim historiography and the Qurʾan, and this has not been seriously considered (Cahen, L’historiographie arabe, 133, 140). The forms of Muslim historical writing which largely determined its character did not have their model in the Qurʾan. Even the question of how its view of history might have exercised a lasting influence on later historiography and, perhaps, given it its “interpretative framework” is rarely asked (Humphreys, Qurʾanic myth, 274). The powerful historical consciousness embedded in the Qurʾan, however, continued to live on and made itself felt throughout the work of Muslim historians. Since the Qurʾan places an unmistakable emphasis on history and the historical process in describing and recommending to humans their necessary and appropriate behavior in the world, it is a fair assumption that the very fact of historiography becoming a conspicuous part of all Muslim intellectual activity had its origin or, at least, its ever-present stimulus, in the Qurʾan. Islam has been rightly deemed a historical religion and one inherently favorable to the study of history in all its aspects.
For the pre-Islamic history from the creation of the world to the time of Muḥammad the information presented in the Qurʾan inspired the contemplation of world history and offered suggestions as to how it might be pursued (Busse, Arabische Historiographie, 269) and remained basic for later historiography. It was elaborated in considerable length, and for the most part freely until more information from outside sources became available in the course of time. Universal history from the beginning to the present became a favored kind of historical writing, which at times was expanded to include the history of the future. One example, however, of Muslim historiography that goes against this trend towards the writing of universal history is the Tajarib al-umam of the fourth/tenth-century Miskawayh. This work deserves mention for its explicit rejection and omission of pre-Islamic history (and the Prophet’s biography), a rejection which is basic ally incompatible with the critical spirit of the true historian (Rosenthal, History, 141 f.). Miskawayh’s approach was evidently formed under the influence of intellectual developments that by his time had firmly established themselves in Muslim civilization but as a rule were unable to supplant the qurʾanic tradition of world history.
An unintended result of the qurʾanic view of history has derived from its original Arabia-centrism that came through rather undiluted by the wider outlook (see above under “c”). In combination with other factors, it contributed to viewing Islam and understanding its history as fundamentally unaffected by the larger world, and it tended to limit the principal concern of later historians to the history of the Muslim world. The treatment of any pre-Islamic history not within the Qurʾan’s field of vision remained severely restricted. During Islamic times, non-Muslim history entered the historians’ purview only to a small extent, and mainly inasmuch as it had direct bearing on the Muslim condition. However, since Islam expanded over a large part of the world, the scope of historical productivity did not fail to expand with it.
The Qurʾan taught the importance, for better or worse, of the individual as the principal human agent in history. That helped to prepare the soil for the tremendous growth of biography, one of the glories of Muslim historiography. An indispensable catalyst in this process was the desire to find an explanation for historical and autobiographical allusions and to reconstruct the biography of the Prophet as the model for all humanity and the source of the rapidly developing religion. All of this naturally required recourse to relentless interpretation of the text and an accumulation of additional material that could be accomplished only with the help of the scholarly disciplines that became known as tafsir and ḥadith. Nothing, however, contributed more and in more diverse ways to arousing a lasting interest in history than biography, and it clearly provided the earliest products of historical writing in Arabic, before further concerns took over to make biography still more essential as a subject of historiography.
The admission of miraculous happenings into the historical process may be considered a minor result of the qurʾanic view of history. That it remained sporadic and restricted to certain items, is remarkable mainly if compared to Christian historiography. Other concepts that lived on and could not be entirely discarded by later historians, for instance, were the possibility of a different time scale for remote historical events and of longevity in human beings. Longevity was suggested by Noah’s life span (see above under “a”); nothing, however, is said about longevity in connection with the sage of the past named Luqman (q.v.; Q 31:12 f.; cf. Heller and Stillman, LuBman). At any rate, the belief in the historical existence of extraordinarily long-lived individuals soon ceased to be of interest to historians and became more of a literary subject.
While the Qurʾan set such lines of thought and provided some basic material for the labors of future historians, without doubt the most profound impact of the qurʾanic view of history has been its stress on history as an example or lesson ʿibra), most clearly stated at the end of Q 12 “Joseph” (Surat Yusuf; Q 12:111). Historical information is not only educational but it is also consummate wisdom (muzdajarun ḥikmatun balighatun, Q 54:4-5); no distinction in this respect can be made between past and contemporary history (Q 59:2). The usefulness of history and the need to learn from it constitute a persistent theme of all Muslim historians. The recognition of history as an infallible guide to how human beings ought, or ought not, to behave and act justifies and legitimizes their work. They generally assume that the preoccupation with history has no other acceptable purpose and useful effect. ʿIbar, as the plural of ʿibra, may eventually appear in the titles of historical works such as al-Dhahabi’s (d. 748/1348) al-ʿIbar fi khabar man ghabar (“The lessons of the reports of those who have passed away”), a strictly annalistic history from Muḥammad to the time of the author. Significantly, the more systematically conceived history of Ibn Khaldun (732-808/1332-1406) bears the overarching title of Kitab al-ʿIbar (“Book of lessons”). The occupation with history and historiography as providing lessons for life and actions must be reckoned among the important gifts of the Qurʾan to the intellectual development of Islam.