Ethics and Knowledge in a Time of Uncertainty (continued)

Last week I raised a question about how conspiracies are not only linked to fake and untested knowledge. They may also be seen as desperate attempts to fill the gaps in a world that promises to be predictable. I closed with a quick nod to a religious worldview in which ethics is not always linked to full knowledge and predictability. I want to follow this up more closely. 

A world determined by God is both certain and unpredictable. In contrast with God, humans might never know in great detail what is to happen in the future. But they trust in God to know, and then accept whatever happens. For humans, the future remains fundamentally unpredictable. 

But let us consider how this ethic is offered in the Qur’an. Rather than a philosophical or theological postulate, it is presented in a concrete form. Consider the following Qur’anic verse (ayah, literally sign): 

Indeed, God has knowledge of the Hour and sends down the rain and knows what is in the wombs. And no soul perceives what it will earn tomorrow, and no soul perceives in what land it will die. Indeed, Allah is Knowing and Aware (Qurán 31:34)

The verse captures the sense that God knows the hidden and the future while humans do not. The verse specifically spells out aspects of the future.

I have often wondered how to translate this verse in a world in which modern sciences seek to know the world and its future. Clearly, there are aspects that are still beyond knowledge. We might count here the 'knowledge of the Hour', what one will 'earn tomorrow', where one might die. But some aspects mentioned in the verse are not as opaque. With a greater understanding of the world, for example, we have a better understanding of rain and what is in the wombs. 

I would go one step further and argue that, in general, we live in world in which what we earn tomorrow and where we might die is also probed. Economists and statisticians work tirelessly on models that predict how we might earn, and where we would die. Such models are built on extensive data fed into machines for processing. Big data in recent times is built on this conception of models and their predictability.  

Of course, we do not know what a particular person may earn or where she may die. But the models have been fairly accurate in predicting what people may do, or shaping may do. The former is embraced by scientists who think that human behavior is predictable, while the latter argue that these models fed into human relations and communication are self-fulfilling prophecies. 

My point in this is to show how one verse in the Qurán on knowledge of the future stands against a model of the world founded on knowledge and predictability. In the verse (sign) of the Qurán, humans are reminded how little they know, and thus act accordingly. In contrast, sciences founded on incremental knowledge geared towards the predictability of the future, creates an ethics based on knowing. 

Until the 1960s, social scientists predicted that this model of science would eventually replace religious worldviews determined by divine knowledge and fiat. Based on their understanding of the world, Weber, Marx and lesser mortals predicted and assumed the future course of the world. 

We now emphasize how wrong they were, sometimes with some glee. Others counter that this prediction is not dead, but needs adjustment. Again, prediction can never be accurate, but faith in it is not given up. 

For me, the question that remains is how people balance these contrasting maps of the world? What do they do when they think that everything is knowable, and what do they do when they face the uncertainty of the future?

In my previous post, I was suggesting that COVID-19 throws up this conundrum for our consideration. The development of the vaccine is predicated on eventually knowing its nature, and understanding what the future will hold. The actual production of the vaccine, its distribution and sale present a world full of unpredictables and uncertainties. 

The time of COVID-19 might be the place for thinking of the right thing to do in the face of uncertainties. It might offer ways of how religious values and ethics may work in the gaps of knowledge.

They are nothing... but also everything in Surah Rahman in the #Quran

Dr. Majidi Bassier emailed me that he would be reciting Surah Rahman at the morning (fajr) prayers today (2 July 2016). Like many others, I have always enjoyed reciting this chapter for the refrain that flows through it to the very end: “Then which of the favours of your Sustainer will you deny?” The favours refer to the creation of nature, and human culture. They include the speech that humans possess to communicate with each other, the fruits and treasures that they find on the earth and in the depths of the oceans, and also the boats and ships that cross rivers and oceans. In sum, the favours cover all aspects of human existence on this earth (nature) and in this world (culture).

Many years ago in my hometown, we wished we had the privilege and honour of reciting this chapter in the night prayer in Ramadan. We knew it well, and knew that everyone listening enjoyed it too. Reciting this chapter would give us a special place in the town for one night. Alas, most of the time, there was a senior Hafiz who denied us this privilege. He sometimes changed the order of reciters so that he could recite Surah Rahman. He was a good reciter, but at the time we resented this high-handedness. But my uncle Mammandkaka and my father always gave me the opportunity to recite the Chapter at family events, and always made a point to say that they loved it when I read it. Listening or reciting it always brings tears to my eyes ... in gratitude for the little favour that they bestowed upon me.

Given the focus on the favours bestowed on humanity, it was surprising to also read “All that dwells upon the earth is perishing, yet still abides the Face of thy Lord, majestic, splendid” (Arberry Translation). On the one hand, the refrain turns attention to the bounties and favours found in human existence. Again and again, it implores human beings to be grateful for life, for the world and everything in it. On the other hand, all this will come to pass. There is no ultimate value in these favours. Only the face of the God would endure.

Listening to it these days caused me to pause. Is this verse not pulling the rug from under the refrain? Is it not ultimately destroying the intuitive message of the refrain? If everything is perishing, then the favours may be denied?

Immediately after this devaluation, however, comes “kulla yamin huwa fi sha’n” (“every day He is upon some labour” - Arberyy). Qurtubi reports that commentators found this to be a verse particularly difficult verse to understand. But they settled on the fact that God is always attending to existence, to the needs of his creation. God creates and destroys provides support and sustains, answers prayers and chastises. And he does it all in the world inhabited by humans. In a way, the verse restores value to the world and its favours. But now, the value includes life and death, and turns around the “labour” of God.

The two verses must then be put together: ““All that dwells upon the earth is perishing” and ““every day He is upon some labour.” The one declares that nothing else is of value except the face of God, and the other that every thing is of value as his “labour” (sha’n). The two together give us a perspective on the earth and the world that helps us to navigate between loss and recovery, appreciation and devaluation. There is a delicate balance between all and nothing in the face and labour of God. The favours of God include loss and recovery, overflowing bounties but also mishaps and obstacles.

#Ethics from the #Quran: They tell each other secretly… and then they blame each other!

A short narrative in the Chapter of the Pen (al-qalam) recalls an affliction that is visited upon the owners of an orchard. One morning, they prepare themselves to harvest their fruit earlier than usual. They “tell each other secretly” that no poor wretch might come upon them, expecting a share. But when they reach the orchard, they are not early enough. A visitor has already been been there, and laid waste the orchard like a parched and dusty field. At first, they think that they are lost (dallun), but then sit back and consider their experience. “They blame each other”, but some also remind them to reconsider their actions and their moral compass.

This is a familiar narrative that evil intentions will sometimes face a lesser punishment, a timely reminder for those who take heed. The greater punishment will leave no respite. But this narrative sometimes conceals hidden nuggets. Familiarity and repetition may become veils to insight.

A closer look at two verbs (yatakhafatun and yatalawamun) is worth a pause. They turn our attention to deep-seated human responses to prosperity and loss. Hoping to keep the full harvest for themselves, the owners of the orchards wished that there were no poor around. They wished that the plentiful harvests were taken from the trees, and stored and hoarded in safe places. “They tell each other secretly.” In one sense, this is an oxymoron. A secret is kept to oneself, and once told to another can no longer be called a secret. But the effect of the verb speaks of a deep or secret desire by the rich and prosperous to maintain a safe distant from the wretched. They should not be accosting one at road intersections. They should not be sullying the portals and corridors of power. Told and untold, the secret runs deep.

Yatalawamun is an equally dominant reaction, this time when an affliction or even minor mishap comes to pass. “They blame each other” as they confront the devastation, looking for a scape-goat to identify and crucify. It is a knee-jerk response, looking to protect the self. Blaming the other happens on the level of the everyday, often in a family, a company, a nation and on the globe. Rene Girard has reminded us that this is probably the origin of human socialibilty. Someone must be blamed so that others can live.

But this narrative concludes with a more hopeful vision for the future. Perhaps, one of them says, our Provider will exchange this for something better.

“On what basis do you argue over Abraham when the Torah and Bible were sent down after him?”

Last night, I listened to the Qur’an at Muir Street mosque in Cape Town during the night prayer (tarawih). The reciter (qari) went through a number of verses from the Chapter Ale Imran. it was a beautiful recitation, read in slow and measured rhythm. There was no urgency or rush in the voice of the reciter, and I listened without distraction, without my mind wandering in all directions.

This verse (65) drew my attention to a profound message in this section of the chapter. It was an argument made for the Prophet against the People of the Book. Abraham was presented as the original believer, he was neither Jew nor Christian ... And please, the voice of the reciter said, do not use the scriptures to make an argument for Abraham’s position. In a sectarian milieu, scriptures would not do. Scriptures were historical and Abraham, the common ancestor, was located outside that history.

But of course, Abraham was a “hanifan musliman.” He was pure and committed in submission.

Was he also a Muslim with a capital M?

The triumphalist message of the Qur’an is that they were all Muslims. And that is the true religion. Islam came to replace the Jews and Christians!

But what is the insight of this verse .... what is the point of appealing to an ancestor, a foundation that goes beyond scriptures. When the Qur’an became scripture, does this verse not also apply to it? Does the Quran not come after the Torah and the Bible?

I was struck by the idea of appealing to a common foundation. And I was struck by the declaration that exposed the temporality of scriptures.

A beautiful recitation, sounds reverberating over bowed heads, recalled this insight.