Abu Bakr Al-Razi and Islamic skepticism

Several times now I have recommended Jennifer Hecht's book, Doubt: a history, and another reason to do so is her treatment of skepticism during the peak of Islamic intellectual achievements (c. 700-1000 CE), the same period during which Europe was plummeting to the depth of its Dark Age.

Just to wet your appetite, consider the story of Abu Bakr Al-Razi, who lived from 854 to 925. While he was praised and accepted by his community because of his charitable work, he also wrote scathing criticisms of Islam and religion in general. Titles of his books included gems such as “The Prophet's Fraudulent Tricks,” “The Stratagems of Those Who Claim to Be Prophets” (this one could have been written by James Randi or Michael Shermer!), and even “On the Refutation of Revealed Religions” (notice the plural in the title). One can get killed for much less in today's “civilized” world.

Al-Razi clearly understood the distinction between common religious people and religious and political authorities, with the latter exploiting the naïve beliefs of the first ones; he also saw the existence of many religions as a pretty good clue that none of them got it right (a powerful argument against the so-called Pascal wager).

Here is what Al-Razi, quoted by Hecht, had to say about the Koran: “By God what you say astonishes us! You are talking about a work which recounts ancient myths, and which at the same time is full of contradictions and does not contain any useful information or explanation. Then you say: 'produce something like it?!'” This is precisely the sort of reaction that modern humanists have whenever they are told about the so-called “good book” or one of its derivatives (like the Koran), and it is rather humbling (and, frankly, a bit depressing) to see how someone saw things so clearly already twelve centuries ago.

What was Al-Razi's answer to those who claim that religion is the only way to find meaning in life and deal with the reality of existence? Philosophy, naturally. As he elegantly put it: “No soul can be purged from the turbidity of this world and escape to the next, except by contemplating philosophy. If a person contemplates philosophy and comprehends anything, be it ever so small, his soul is purged from this turbidity and is saved.” Why would one want to be tied by religion (whose original meaning is in fact “to tie fast,” from the Latin religare), rather than develop love of wisdom, the root meaning of philosophy?