Influence of Arabic into Scientific Revolution
It
is well known nowadays that modern Scientific Revolution benefited indirectly
from the theories, results and inventions transmitted from the Arabic/Islamic
scientific tradition during the Renaissance. The new element introduced by Dr
Rim Turkmani who worked for many years on the original archives is that
knowledge transfer didn't stop at the Renaissance. In the following original
and well-documented article, Dr Turkmani shows that fellows of the Royal
Society and scholars at Oxford and Cambridge were openly borrowing ideas and
observations from the Middle East throughout the 17th century. Dr Turkmani
transferred highlights from these documents and rare books into the Arabick
Roots exhibition supported by FSTC and The Qatar Foundation and that was opened
at the Royal Society on the 9th of June (see opening coverage here).
Plenty of
historians of science have studied the impact of Arabic and Islamic science and
philosophy on the European Renaissance [1], when Europe was waking up from the Dark Ages and the light
of knowledge shone steadily from the East.
Fewer have
studied the knowledge transfer that started in the second half of the 16th
century and peaked in the 17th. Europe was just giving birth to the scientific
revolution, with Francis Bacon (1561–1626) as midwife, and new societies like
the Royal Society [2] promulgating
the New Philosophy.
Figure 1: Ibn al-Haytham (here Alhasen) sharing with Galileo the honour of holding up the title page of Hevelius' Selenographia, pub¬lished in 1647. Note the image of the brain on the plinth below Ibn al-Haytham. Image courtesy of the library of the Royal Society.
The late
historian of science Marie Boas Hall spent decades editing the correspondence
of Henry Oldenburg, secretary of the Royal Society from 1663 to 1677. Struck by
his frequent references to Muslim scholars and the need to translate their
work, she wrote [3], "At first thought, it seems unlikely that the Fellows
of the Royal Society founded by the ‘new philosophy' in England in 1660 ‘for
the promotion of natural knowledge', self-confessedly forward looking
modernists, should have concerned themselves with Islamic learning. That they
did so throws further light upon the complexities of the scientific
revolution."
This
interest of the ‘New Philosophers' in learning that was eight centuries old
might seem surprising. But it becomes less so if we consider the ground they
shared with their classical Muslim counterparts, some of whom are acknowledged
as pioneers of the scientific method.
Ibn
al-Haytham (or Alhazen, 965–c.1040), for example, followed a rigorous research
procedure. He started by stating the problem, explicitly supported by
observations. He critically reviewed previous work, conducted verifiable
experiments to test hypotheses, interpreted the data and formulated
conclusions, often mathematically. Only then did he publish his findings. Most
modern scientists would follow a similar path. No wonder the pioneers of the
scientific revolution could look backwards without betraying their Baconian
principles, which demanded complete independence from previous traditions.
Johannes
Hevelius, the first foreign Fellow of the Royal Society, expressed the
indebtedness of his generation of scientists to Ibn al-Haytham by putting him
on the title page of his Selenographia (Fig. 1). There he portrayed al-Haytham
as one of the twin pillars of the scientific method, symbolising rational
thinking: he stands on a plinth that bears an image of the brain and the Latin
word ratione (reason).
And
although it may come as a surprise that Robert Boyle, the founder of modern
chemistry, often turned to the ancient practices of Muslim chemists like Jabir
Ibn Hayyan (Geber), Boyle and Geber both championed the experimental approach
to chemistry, despite the nine centuries between them. Geber made this clear
when he wrote, "The first essential in chemistry is that you should
perform practical work and conduct experiments, for he who performs not
practical work nor makes experiments will never attain to the least degree of
mastery. But you, O my son, do experiment so that you may acquire knowledge.
Scientists delight not in abundance of material; they rejoice only in the
excellence of their experimental methods."
Seventeenth-century
scientists knew that much essential Muslim knowledge had not yet reached the
West. They recognized that the answers to many questions were to be found in
Arabic and Persian sources, including masterpieces of Greek mathematics that
survived as Arabic versions enriched with commentaries and solutions to
equations. Most of the material that seventeenth-century scientists hoped to
find in these manuscripts epitomised the new spirit of the Royal Society and
the scientific revolution, with its emphasis on empirical data, experimental
methods and observations. It was not the theoretical models of Islamic
astronomers that interested Edmond Halley and Edward Bernard; it was their
remarkably accurate observations and observational methods. Boyle was not interested
in knowing to which of the classical elements a substance like sal-ammoniac
belonged. His focus was on its description and properties, where it could be
found in nature, ways of extracting it and any health and other benefits it
might offer. At a time when Islamic medicine was going out of fashion, an
interest in Muslim physicians' use of herbs and drugs, and their method of
immunising people against smallpox, remained strong.
All this
scientific and literary activity needed Arabic, and a renewed interest in the
language led to the establishment of chairs of Arabic in Cambridge and Oxford.
There were other activities, too, such as establishing new embassies and trade
missions in the Ottoman Empire, building alliances with Eastern churches and
translating the Qur'an, that all needed Arabic. Perhaps because of these
diplomatic and religious concerns, any scientific motivation has often been
overlooked by historians. But most orientalists of the time did cite scientific
as well as religious reasons for studying Arabic [4] and
some, like Halley and Greaves, had no other motive.
There is
also plenty of evidence that Arabists were actively communicating with
scientists and natural philosophers of the time, propagating and translating
important Arabic and Persian manuscripts. Frequently, as with astronomers
Edward Bernard (1638–1696) and John Bainbridge (1582–1643), the Arabist and the
scientist were one and the same.
Scholars
also realised that translation had corrupted much of the knowledge that had
been transferred during the Renaissance. Science in Europe had now matured
enough to care about the details of what was written; details that were often
lost in translation. John Bainbridge (1582–1643), the first Savilian Professor
of Astronomy at Oxford [5], explained in a letter to the Archbishop of Armagh, James
Ussher (1581–1656) that he undertook the difficulty of learning Arabic ‘to see with mine own eyes
and not be led hoodwink by others'[6].
Another
Savilian Professor of Astronomy, Edward Bernard (1638–1696), obviously had more
confidence in Ibn al-Haytham (or Alhazen) than in the translator of his work.
Looking for a solution to the long-standing Alhazen problem [7], he wrote to the Royal Society that ‘the prolixity of the book
proceeds from the ignorance of the interpreter rather than the inelegance of
the Arab.'
Arabic and
Persian books and manuscripts were at the heart of the 17th-century fascination
with Arabic and Islamic science. Scarce in England, they were abundant in the
Muslim world, and an active manuscript hunt was necessary to bring them to
European libraries. This movement was supported by figures like William Laud
(1573–1645), Chancellor of the University and later Archbishop of Canterbury,
and James Ussher (1581–1656), Archbishop of Armagh.
Laud was
so keen on collecting and using these manuscripts that he spent his own money
on the project, sponsoring travellers to collect them from cities like
Constantinople and Aleppo, and most importantly establishing the first Chair of
Arabic in England in 1636. Pococke became the first Laudian professor of Arabic
and in 1640 Laud endowed the Chair from his own assets. Laud also managed to
rally King Charles I to the cause and through him made use of the facilities of
the Levant Company to bring books back home. In a letter of 1634 to the English
Levant Company, drafted by Laud's secretary, Charles I wrote:
‘There is a great deal of Learning and that very fit and
necessary to be known, that is written in Arabic, and there is a great defect
in both our Universities, very few spending any of their time to attain to
skill either in that or other Eastern Languages... every Ship of yours, at
every Voyage shall bring home one Arabic or Persian Manuscript Book.'
During the
course of the 17th century the number of Arabic and Persian manuscripts in the
Bodleian library at Oxford increased from just a few items to several thousand,
with the books and manuscripts gathered by Laud forming the core of this
invaluable collection. Moreover, the history of many of these manuscripts shows
that they were not collected for the sake of collection, but were actively used
in research.
The
Bodleian's important collection had a librarian to match. Thomas Hyde, who
later became the Laudian Professor of Arabic and who was a master of Arabic and
Persian, was appointed to the Bodleian in 1659 and communicated actively with scientists
and philosophers at Oxford, Cambridge and the Royal Society.
But it was
not only silk and manuscripts that were shipped back home through trade routes
and diplomatic channels. There were also products like coffee, with its
coffee-house culture. Two papers were published in the Philosophical
Transactions about the coffee of the Arabs and how the tradition of drinking it
in public houses was spreading in England, much to the annoyance of brewers.
Coffee houses became an integral part of the intellectual life of the period:
many of the Royal Society's earliest Fellows would have held their heated
discussions there. New trees and plants also found their way back to England.
Three of these trees, imported in 1640, are still alive in and around Oxford.
Most of
the scientists who drew on Arabic and Persian sources were astronomers. Newly
developed models of the skies required better observations to support them, and
observing something like the Moon over a short period was often not enough:
modern observations had to be compared with those made over centuries or even
millennia to discover how the trajectory or obliquity of an object evolved in
time. Making observations in places such as Alexandria and comparing them with
those made there during the ancient Egyptian, Greek and Islamic periods was the
only way that 17th-century astronomers could arrive at convincing conclusions to
some of the open questions.
To make
use of this ancient data, the exact coordinates of the places from which the
observations had been made were essential: without these reference points
astronomers could make little sense of their observations. Astronomer Edmund
Halley (1656–1742) appealed to travellers to make observations that would help
calculate such coordinates. In a paper published in the Philosophical Transactions
of the Royal Society in 1695 he
wrote [8]:
‘And if any curious Traveller or Merchant residing there,
would please to observe, with due care, the Phases of the Moon's Eclipse at
Bagdad, Aleppo and Alexandria, thereby to determine their longitude, they could
not do the Science of Astronomy a greater service'
Figure 2: The title of the paper written in Latin by Edmund Halley on the observations of Al-Battani published in the Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society in 1693. Image courtesy of the library of the Royal Society.
These
comparisons of old and new observations would sometimes pose new questions. The
debate on the acceleration of the Moon (the possible increase in the Moon's
mean rate of motion relative to the stars) was started by Halley in a paper on
the observations of Muslim astronomer Al-Battani (c. 858–929), published in the Philosophical Transactions
of the Royal Society of 1693 [9] (Figure
2).
Halley
particularly valued ancient and medieval observations and excelled at using
them. In his paper on Al Battani‘s observations, he notices that they fall half
way between his own observations and those of the Greeks (around 800 years each
way). He also points out that Al-Battani was the first to dare to criticise
Ptolemy [10]. His starting point for the debate on the acceleration of
the Moon was an attempt to restore Al-Battani's observations of the eclipses at
al-Raqqa [11]. To do this, he needed to correct
the two available Latin translations of Al-Battani's work, which he thought
were full of errors, and hoped he could lay his hand on a reliable copy:
Figure 3: Title page of Halley's translation of Apollonius's work from Arabic. Image courtesy of the library of the Royal Society.
Halley's
wish did not come true. But had he laid his hands on such a manuscript, he
would no doubt have translated it himself: when he located the Arabic version
of the work of Greek mathematician Apollonius (c. 262 BCE-c. 190 BCE) on conic
sections, he took on the pain of learning Arabic at the age of 50, with very
limited resources, in order to translate it into Latin (Figure 3).
The debate on the acceleration of the Moon was followed up
by other astronomers, including Richard Dunthorne (1711–1775), Roger Long
(1680–1770) and Pierre-Simon Laplace (1749–1827). All of them used Al-Battani's
observations in addressing this question, which was only settled by John Adams
(1819–1892) in 1853 [10].
As Europe
expanded into the rest of the world, it discovered another two good reasons for
paying attention to Arabic sources and the Arabic language.
First,
‘the rest of the world' had been well described by those who had expanded into
it and travelled through it before the Europeans – the Muslims. The books of
Arab geographers like Abu al-Fida (or Abulfeda, 1331–1332) became important:
they not only described in detail the geography, natural resources and people
of these countries, but also included carefully measured coordinates of cities
and places, making such books valuable to astronomers as well as geographers.
Abulfeda's
book A
Sketch of the Countries (Taqwim al-Buldan) was much sought-after in the 17th century. In 1650, the
astronomer and orientalist John Greaves (1602–1652) translated parts of it; a
more complete attempt was made by French scientist and orientalist Jean de
Thévenot (1633–1667). He struggled to finish his translation, as he explained
in a letter to the secretary of the Royal Society in 1671:
‘I should tell you sir that I found myself engaged in the
translation of Abulfeda, which is an undertaking in which the difficulty of the
language is the least [impediment]; the scarcity of Oriental historians and
geographers up to the present has given me more trouble than anything else.'
Figure 4: Title page of the Arabic Taqwim al-Buldan of Abu al-Fida which was printed in Paris in 1829. Image courtesy of the library of the Royal Society.
Abulfeda's
book remained important well into the 19th century and was printed in Arabic in
1829 in Paris. See Figure 4 for the front page of this edition, which is in the
library of the Royal Society.
The second
attraction of Arabic for an expanding Europe was its value for diplomatic and
trade relationships over a substantial part of the world. In his inaugural
lecture, the orientalist William Bedwell (1561–1632) gives this as a compelling
reason for studying Arabic. After demonstrating the wide geographical area in
which the language is spoken, he says:
‘In almost all these places, the privileges and diplomas of
kings and princes, the instruments and contracts of merchants and nobles,
finally the familiar letters of all, are expressed and written almost solely in
Arabic language.'
Figure 5: Title page of Richard Mead's book in which he incorporated the work of Al-Razi and commented on it. Note Al-Razi's name on the title page. Image courtesy of the library of the Royal Society.
Arabic
materials were used for research in several different fields during the 17th
century. The mathematician John Wallis (1616–1703) used Arabic quotations in
his work and translated a proof of Euclid's fifth postulate by Al-Tusi
(1201–1274), which he used in his lectures and later included in his book Opera Mathematica. He was assisted by the Arabist Edward Pococke (1604–1691),
who showed him two other solutions in Arabic sources.
In
medicine, there is the example of Richard Mead (1673–1754) who in his book on
smallpox and measles De
variolis et morbillis (Figure 5)
found it necessary to translate the work of Al-Razi (865–925), the first
physician to write about these diseases. The translation, by Thomas Hunt
(1696–1774), Laudian Professor of Arabic, was included with a commentary by
Mead and formed a large part of his book.
Robert
Boyle (1627–1691, originator of Boyle's law) was also influenced by the works
of Muslim scholars [12]. He was close to several orientalists, such as Pococke and
Hyde. Hyde often provided Boyle with information from Arabic and Persian
manuscripts, writing in a letter to Boyle that ‘if for the future I meet
with anything in oriental authors, that may illustrate natural knowledge, I
shall be sure to take notice of it.'Arabic
and Persian astronomical tables and star catalogues were also invaluable in
research. In 1663, Hevelius wrote to Henry Oldenburg (c. 1619–1677), the
secretary of the Royal Society, asking about a copy of the famous star
catalogue of Ulugh Beg that he had heard about from John Wallis. Wallis knew of
a reliable copy in Oxford, and the Royal Society asked him to acquire a
translation. Hyde was the obvious person for Wallis to consult, as he had
already begun a translation of the catalogue and was trying to finish it.
Wallis
helped Hyde complete the translation, which used and compared three different
Persian manuscripts of the Ulugh Beg star catalogue, two of them in the
Bodleian library and the third a manuscript in St John's College belonging to
William Laud (1573–1645), Chancellor of the University and later Archbishop of
Canterbury. Once Hyde had added the 16th-century star catalogue of the Arab
astronomer Al-Tizini to his translation, the finished product (Figure 6) was
published in 1665 and a copy sent by the Royal Society to Hevelius without
delay.
Figure 6: The title page of Thomas Hyde's publication of the star catalogue of Ulugh Beg and that of Al-Tizini. Image courtesy of the library of the Royal Society.
The
evidence of the 17th century interest in Arabic resources manifests itself in several
in the libraries and archives of several distinguished academic institutions
such as The Bodleian Library in Oxford and the library of the Royal Society.
Highlights of the collection of the Royal Society are given here as an example.
Early
Fellows of the Royal Society wanted to extend their experimentation and
observation beyond their own space and time, even if this meant learning Arabic
in order to decipher the flood of Arabic and Persian manuscripts sweeping into
seventeenth-century England. Evidence of this interest is demonstrated in many
parts of the Society's archive and library. First there are all the books on
the shelves marked ‘Arabic Books' which remain not catalogued. In addition to
classical Arabic books such as Ibn Sina's Canon of Medicine and al-Idrisi's
Geography, it also includes books in Persian, three beautifully illustrated
books by the Ottoman scholar Katip Çelebi and even books in Syriac. Another
collection of oriental manuscripts have been given to the British Museum, this
one consist mainly of books on theology and Arabic language.
Two large
collections of Arabic and Persian manuscripts formerly belonging to the Royal
Society are now housed at the British Library, including manuscripts on
astronomy, mathematics, and medicine as well as grammar, history and
literature.
The
Society also has a considerable collection of books translated from Arabic,
such as Ibn al-Haytham's Book of Optics and the Astronomy of Al Fergani. Some
of these, including the star catalogue of Ulugh Beg, were translated by Fellows
of the Royal Society or at the request of the Society. Several of these works
have hand written annotations in their margins.
Many
references to oriental learning and oriental tongues appear in the
correspondence of the Royal Society, with the names of scholars like Abu Al
Fida of Hama (or Abulfeda) (1273-1131) or places like Aleppo appearing
frequently. There is also evidence of interest in contemporary knowledge:
letters were sent to the Levant and North Africa with long lists of enquiries
such as ‘what kind of learning they now excel in' and ‘the way used for
redeeming their ores into metals.'
There is
further evidence in The
Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society. Papers were published about a wide spectrum of subjects, such
as the observations of classical Muslim astronomers, the medical use of herbs
in Aleppo, the method of inoculation against smallpox in Aleppo, and even the
manner of hatching eggs in ovens in Cairo! Fellows who lived or travelled in
the Levant also wrote books, including the splendid Natural History of Aleppo
by Alexander Russell and the first detailed drawing of the eternal city of
Palmyra.
Nearly
forty Fellows from the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries were involved in
this ‘Arabick interest' in one way or another. Five were professors of Arabic,
including Edmund Castell, who devoted his life to compiling an elaborate
dictionary of oriental tongues and who ordered his memorial stone to be
engraved in Arabic, creating what is now England's oldest Arabic inscription.
During the
same period the Royal Society elected three Arab Fellows, one of whom, Cassem
Aga, made a valuable contribution to smallpox immunisation. Some Fellows such
as John Wallis and Richard Mead used actual Arabic quotations in their work.
The value
of Islamic science to early modern science was not simply as material for the
history of science. As demonstrated above, most of the interest was initially
in the actual science and the philosophy behind it. But science constantly
moves forward, making what lies behind it ‘history'. Gradually, collections
like that of the Bodleian became more valuable as resources for the history of
science rather than for science itself.
It is
remarkable, however, that many scientists of the 17th and 18th centuries were
able to use Islamic resources for their scientific content while at the same
time demonstrating their understanding of where the contributions of Arab and
Muslim scholars fit within the history of science. Roger Long demonstrated this
brilliantly in his five-volume book Astronomy,
published in 1742. In this, he often uses the observation of Muslim astronomers
like Al-Farghani and Al-Battani. In the debate about the obliquity of the
ecliptics alone, he included 12 Arabic values of the observed obliquity. In the
same book, he devotes a chapter to ‘Astronomy of the Arabians, Persians and
Tartars'. He begins by stating that:
‘From the year 800, almost to the beginning of the 14th
century, Europe was plunged in darkness, and the most profound ignorance; but
during this period several able men arose among the Arabians, and chiefly at
Bagdad, which is very near the ancient Babylon; and some useful works were
preformed by them.'
Long
continues to demonstrate a very wide knowledge of the history of Arabic and
Islamic science and cites many names such as Al-Tusi and Thabit ibn Qurra
(836–901) and demonstrates that his knowledge of that period in history of
science stretches also to mathematics:
‘It is undoubtedly, to the Arabians that we are indebted for
the present form of trigonometry; for although Ptolemy rendered the theory of
Menelaus much more simple, yet he worked by very laborious rules.'
Clearly
Long, like many other scientists from that period, such as John Flamsteed
(1646–1719, Astronomer Royal) and Christopher Wren (1632–1723, architect of St
Paul's cathedral), openly acknowledged the contribution of the Arabs and Muslims
to science and philosophy, and demonstrated wide knowledge of this
contribution.
Modern
astronomers and scientists rarely make such acknowledgements or demonstrate
such knowledge. This is more a reflection of the way science has progressed,
with scientists becoming increasingly specialised and rarely crossing the
boundaries of their disciplines, than deliberate ungratefulness. Unfortunately,
scientists like Boyle and Robert Hooke (1635–1703), who were able to ponder
science, philosophy, history and religion alike, are scarce among modern
scientists.
Abundant
evidence for the interest in Arabic and Islamic science during the early modern
period can be found in the libraries and archives of many important
institutions: the Royal Society, the French Academy of Science, Oxford and
Cambridge. The sheer number of Arabic and Persian books in the libraries of
such institutions and the number of English and Latin translations of the works
of Muslim scholars shows how strong this interest was. More research is needed
to fully unveil this little-known episode in the history of science.
[1] See for example George Saliba, Islamic Science and the
Making of the European Renaissance.Cambridge,
Mass.: MIT Press, 2007.
[2] The full name of this institution is ‘'The Royal Society of
London for Improving Natural Knowledge'; it was founded in 1660 and is the
oldest continuously existence scientific society on Earth.
[3] Güll Russell (editor), The 'Arabick' Interest of the Natural Philosophers
in Seventeenth-Century England'.Leiden:
Brill, 1994.
[4] Arabist Edmund Castell FRS for example mentioned the use of
Arabic for understanding Avicenna's medical work in his inaugural lecture.
Matthias Pasor who lectured Arabic in Oxford early in the 17th century
campaigned for a chair in Arabic quoting the wide geographical distribution of
those who speak it, and its usefulness for theology and sacred literature. The
works of the Arabs in medicine, philosophy, physics, mathematics, history,
poetry, geography, and astronomy are praised.
[5] A prestigious chair in astronomy at Oxford University that
was established by Savile in 1619. The chair still exists and is now occupied
by the renowned astronomer Joseph Ivor Silk.
[6] From a letter he sent to Ussher on the 3rd of October 1626.
[7] A problem in spherical optics that comprises drawing lines
from two points in the plane of a circle meeting at a point on the
circumference and making equal angles with the normal at that point. The
problem was only solved in 1997 by Peter Neumann.
[10] Raymond Mercier, "English Orientalists and Mathmatical
Astronomy", in G. Russell (edit.), The 'Arabick' Interest of the Natural Philosophers
in Seventeenth-Century England,
op. cit., pp. 158-214.
[11] City in northern Syria where Al Battani made most of his
observations.
[12] See Charles G.D. Littleton, "The Levant in the
Intellectual Life of Robert Boyle', in Alastair Hamilton, Maurits van den
Boogert and Bart Westerweel (eds), The Republic of Letters and the Levant, Intersections series (Leiden: Brill, 2005), pp. 152-71.
* Dr
Rim Turkmani is an Astrophysicist working with the Astrophysics group at the
Imperial College. She is also Research Fellow of the Royal Society and Fellow
of Foundation for Science Technology and Civilisation (FSTC).
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