Pre-modern intellectual debates on the knowledge of history and Ẓiyā͗ al-Dīn Baranī’s Tārīkh-i Fīrūzshāhī

Introduction: Baranī in the Context of Persian and Arabic History Writing

The above quotes of Ẓiyāʾ al-Dīn Baranī (ca. 684–758/1285–1357) are found in the introductory chapter to the Tārīkh-i Fīrūzshāhī, a section dedicated to elucidating the qualities of the knowledge of history (ʿilm-i tārīkh). As one of the most important historians of his time in South Asia, Baranī’s history has been the major source for understanding the political history of the Delhi Sultanate during the eighth AH/fourteenth CE century. The attention given to Baranī is, in part, due to the fact that he chronicled the reigns of eight sultans of Delhi, beginning with Ghiyās al-Dīn Balban (r. 664–85/1266–87) and ending with Fīrūz Shāh (r. 752–90/1351–88). In addition, he was an influential courtier under Muḥammad b. Tughluq (r. 724–52/1324–51), the ruler he served as an emissary and court advisor for 17 years. Baranī is also noteworthy for the Fatāwá;-yi jahāndārī (Edicts of world rule), his contribution to courtly advice literature. ¹ Baranī’s work has been recognised as a significant contribution to that genre complimented by other important works from the Delhi Sultanate such as the Ādāb al-ḥarb wa ‘l shujāʿa (The etiquette of war and valour) of Fakhr-i Mudabbir (ca. 552–626/ 1157–1236), dedicated to the sultan Shams al-Dīn Iltutmish (r. 607–633/1210–36), and the Zakhīrat al-mulūk of ʿAlī Hamadānī (714–786/1314–85). As such, the bulk of scholarship on Baranī has focused on his political writings with the goal of understanding prevalent ideals of Islamic rule and sourcing the Tārīkh-i Fīrūzshāhī for recreating the political history of the period. ²

In addition to his contributions to history and advice literature, Baranī equally stands out, though this has received little acknowledgement, for his contribution to the knowledge of history (ʿilm-i tārīkh). At the time he wrote the Tārīkh-i Fīrūzshāhī, circa 758/1357, intense debates on the standing of history as a distinct field of knowledge were beginning to develop. Toward the latter half of the eighth/fourteenth century Muḥammad b. Ibrāhīm al-Ījī (fl. 783/1381–82) had composed the Tuḥfat al-faqīr ilā sāḥib al-sarīr fī ʿilm al-tawārīkh (The poor gift to the possessor of the secret of the knowledge of history), a major attempt to establish the principles for a knowledge of history. In the ninth/fifteenth century, Muḥyī al-Dīn Muḥammad b. Sulaymān al-Kāfiyajī (788–879/1386–87–1474) composed al-Mukhtasar fi ʿilm al-taʾrīkh (A short treatise on the knowledge of history), a vigorous championing of the elevated place of the knowledge of history amongst the Islamic fields of knowledge. Around the same time, Shams al-Dīn Abū al-Khayr Muḥammad b. ʿMuḥ al-Rahman al-Shāfiʿī al-Sakhāwī (830–902/1427–97) wrote a treatise in defence of historians and their methods titled al-Iʿlān bi-l-tawbīkh li-man dhamma ahl al-taʾrīkh (An open denunciation of the adverse critiques of the historians).

In light of the above-mentioned authors, Ẓiyāʾ al-Dīn Baranī and his views on the knowledge of history take on importance. Predating their contributions, Baranī’s writings represent the only discussion on the subject in Islamic literature of South Asia from the seventh/thirteenth andeighth/fourteenth centuries. It is curious, therefore, that his thoughts on the knowledge of history have not been fully studied in secondary scholarship. ³ This may relate partially to the reception of Baranī, which has been decidedly presentist and empirically oriented, that is to say focused on discerning the facts in history and the veracity of Baranī’s recounting. ⁴ This article attempts to rectify that absence and to provide an intellectual context for his views on historiography, and place emphasis on the fact that scholars of the Islamic Middle Period made the distinction between the writing of history (tārīkh) and the knowledge of history (ʿilm-i tārīkh), as scholarly subjects. What did Baranī consider the proper place for history among various fields of knowledge? In the introduction to the Tārīkh-i Fīrūzshāhī, Baranī expresses his views on four related historiographical topics that reveal his opinion on this consequential question: (a) the relationship of the Qurʾān to Islamic historiography; (b) the role of Muḥammad as an historical exemplar of religious and worldly rule; (c) the knowledge of history (ʿilm-i tārīkh) as a discipline of scholarship; and (d) the history of Islamic historiography.

Before entering into a fuller discussion of Baranī, it is important to note that the study of history as a discipline was in an early stage of development in the late fifth/eleventh century, particularly from the perspective of institutions. Some scholars have marked the transition between the fifth/eleventh and sixth/twelfth centuries as critical to new developments in the composition of Arabic and Persian historiography. Chase Robinson divided his chronology of medieval Islamic history writing into ‘the formative period’ (700–950) and the ‘classical period’ (950–1500). He argues that the lack of the formal study of history in institutions of learning was due to the fact that for ‘traditionists and hard-core traditionalists—those who determined the madrasa curriculum—later chronology was irrelevant, and writing contemporary history was hubristic and irreverent’. Tarif Khalidi understands the emergence of a new trend in history writing in this period saying, ‘the earlier historiography was largely an interpretation of a momentous past, the new historiography boldly projected its own present as being of equal if not greater significance’. ⁵ In Baghdad this was the critical period for the establishment of the madrasa complex that contributed to the ‘Sunni revival’. Daphna Erphat notes in her study of education in Baghdad that there was an intense effort to codify knowledge in a Sunni orientation ‘to a degree hitherto unknown in its history, and to define the boundaries of religious knowledge (ʿilm)’. ⁶ The historiographical study of al-akhbār, ‘narratives relating to words and deeds of the Prophet’, appears in the curriculum as a distinct subject along with ḥadith, fiqh and kalām around this time. This is demonstrated, for example, by one of the fields mastered by Hishām al-Kinānī al-Waqqashī al-Ṭulayṭulī (408–89/1017–96) during his studies. ⁷

By the sixth/twelfth century, ideas of a distinct historical discipline of knowledge were in greater circulation. One of the earliest examples of this can be found in the Tārīkh-i Bayhaq of ʿAlī b. Zayd al-Bayhaqi, also known as Ibn Funduq (ca. 490–565/1097–1169). He envisioned the knowledge of history (ʿilm-i tārīkh) as being comparable to other fields of knowledge, such as the knowledge of the sayings of the Prophet Muḥammad (ʿilm-i ḥadīth) and the knowledge of genealogies (ʿilm-i ansāb). ⁸ He stated that the knowledge of history combined two essential categories of knowledge: the knowledge of religion(s) (ʿilm-i adyān) and the knowledge of peoples (ʿilm-i abdān). ⁹ In Rosenthal’s estimation the high-water mark in efforts to define knowledge occurred in the sixth/twelfth and seventh/thirteenth centuries. The debates can be found, for example, in the life of Sayf al-Dīn al-Āmidī (551–631/1156–7–1233), author of Abkār al-afkār (The arising of ideas). His views on the relationship between religion and reason were critical in this period and for which he spent part of his life in exile. ¹⁰ Arguments over the meaning of knowledge can be read, in part, as a consequence of earlier curricular developments within the madrasa.

History appears to have achieved an even more established place in the curriculum of Islamic learning in the seventh/thirteenth century. This is noted, for instance, in the studies of ʿAlī b. Yūsuf al-Qifṭī (568–646/1172–1248), author of the Taʾrīkh al-ḥukamāʾ (The history of scholars), a biographical encyclopaedia of physicians, philosophers, and astronomers. ¹¹ Similarly, ʿAbd al-Laṭīf al-Baghdādī (557–629/1162–1231), the noted philosopher, physician, and pre-modern Egyptologist, comments on the important place the study of history played in his education by saying,

One should read histories, study biographies, and the experiences of nations. By doing this, it will be as though, in his short lifespan, he lived contemporaneously with peoples of the past, was on intimate terms with them, and knew the good and the bad among them. ¹²

It is also clear that dramatic political changes in the seventh/thirteenth century led to a new production in history writing. Tarif Khalidi has noted that the powerful impact of the Crusades, along with the Mongol conquests in Central Asia and the Middle East, led to the emergence of new imperial formations: Ottoman, Mamluk Egypt and the Delhi Sultanate. He describes this transformation saying, ‘A new historiography came into being under the umbrella of siyāsa, most typically represented in what may be called the imperial bureaucratic chronicle.’ ¹³ Overall this indicates a general trend, from the fifth/eleventh century onwards, when knowledge systems and disciplinary boundaries were opening up in a manner that led to a greater understanding of history as a distinct field of knowledge.

The Advocacy and Defence of Historiography as a Field of Knowledge

As with many historians of his time and earlier, Baranī shared a high view of history. In the introduction to the Tārīkh-i Fīrūzshāhī, Baranī writes, ‘I have not profited from the benefits of any system of knowledge or study, besides Qurʾānic exegesis (tafsīr), ḥadīth, law (fiqh), and the way of the shaykhs (ṭarīqat-i mushāʾikh), as I have in the knowledge of history (ʿilm-i tārīkh).’ ¹⁴ Baranī noted seven illustrious qualities of history that make it worthy of dedication. On the basis of these qualities he builds his foundation for the knowledge of history. It was popular amongst historians to list the qualities of history in prefatory matter. Ibn Funduq, for instance, begins his history by detailing the various benefits of the knowledge of history. ¹⁵ One prominent example is Ibn Khaldūn (732–808/1332–1406). He begins the Kitāb al-ʿibar with a number of references to the qualities of history. ¹⁶ Another example is Muḥammad b. Ibrāhīm al-Ījī who lists ten important uses of history in the Tuḥfat al-faqīr. ¹⁷ The major biographer of ḥadīth scholars, ʿAbd al-Rahman al-Shāfiʿī al-Sakhāwī also has a lengthy section on the beneficial uses of history. ¹⁸ It could be said that Baranī, and others, were engaging in frivolous encomium, congratulating themselves for entering such a noble profession. However, a closer analysis of these texts will show that historians, like Baranī, were formulating intellectual justifications for a discipline, which in some circles, was viewed with scepticism. Introductions along these lines were an attempt to answer the basic questions, why should Muslims study history and for what purpose?

According to Baranī, history was first and foremost beneficial because it is the means of profiting from what he refers to as the possessors of insight (ūlū ’l-abṣār), principally the prophets (anbiyāʾ) and sultans (salāṭīn), whose deeds are recorded in the heavenly books (kutub-i samāwī). Baranī argues that the ultimate example of the usefulness of history is found in the Qurʾān. He writes,

God has brought to light the affairs of those who he accepts (maqbūlān) and rejects (mardūdān) as well as the virtues of those who are close to him and the wicked deeds of those who have fallen away among the peoples of bygone times (umam-i sālifat) of the Muhammadan people (ummat-i Muḥammadī). ¹⁹

Here Baranī defines the Qurʿān as a historical text, and indeed, the Qurʾān played a central role in the development of Islamic historiography. Stephen Humphreys argues that the fundamental relationship between historiography and the Qurʾān can be seen in ‘certain structural features’ and that history writing has been ‘decisively shaped by the Qurʾān’. ²⁰

Detractors of history frequently derided the fact that histories contained within them the records of sinful and ignominious individuals who provide a poor example for Muslims. For instance, in the most extensive record we have of the debates surrounding the knowledge of history as they took shape in ninth/fifteenth century, the first criticism al-Sakhāwī records made by the critics of history is that ‘historians filled their books with the information which ought not to be mentioned and which we have classified as forbidden’. ²¹ In a seeming rebuttal to this type of argument, Baranī argues that the Qurʾān itself is an uncensored portrait of history that necessarily displays the failures of humankind. For him, ‘observing the experiences of the miserable (ashqiyāʾ)…is a lesson for the prosperous (suʿadā). In rejecting the bad character and evil behavior of the wretched, those of good disposition find the protection of the favor of God’. ²²

Along with the knowledge of the Qurʾān, Baranī also sees the knowledge of history as sharing certain traits with the knowledge of ḥadīth. It has long been noted that the knowledge of ḥadīth played a major role in the development of historiography. ²³ Baranī argues that this relationship exists primarily on the level of method. He refers to the process by which ḥadīth scholars criticise or praise the narrators of the circumstances of transmission (mā-jarā-yi wurūd) of the sayings and deeds of the Prophet, thus establishing their veracity. ²⁴ Baranī claims that the scholars of ḥadīth say that the knowledge of ḥadīth and the knowledge of history are twins, further emphasising their intertwined nature. ²⁵ As an example, he notes that if the scholar of ḥadīth is not a historian he cannot recognise the original (aṣl) narrators of the actions of the Prophet and his companions, nor distinguish between the sincere (mukhliṣān) and insincere (ghayr mukhliṣān) of the companions. From his point of view it is essentially the knowledge of history that enables Muslims to understand the actions of the Prophet and his companions. Other scholars of the period supported this view. In his discourse on the knowledge of history, Al-Ījī claims, ‘The principles (mabādiʾ) of historiography…are the oral transmission (naql) from authorities through listening (to their lecturing) and a written tradition (riwāya) of assured continuity (bi-t-tatabbuʿ).’ He continues by saying that these principles ‘[have been] adequately explained by the leading ḥadīth scholars’. ²⁶

Baranī’s discourse on ḥadīth fits the well-established traditionalism of Islamic scholarship. ²⁷ Traditionalism in ḥadīth scholarship is founded upon the knowledge of the chain of transmitters of the saying of the Prophet, or the isnād, their moral character and their historical relationship to the Prophet Muhammad. This is indicated, for example, in a quote found in al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī’s (392–463/1002–71) al-Jāmiʿ li-akhlāq al-rāwī wa-ādāb al-sāmiʿ (A comprehensive treatment of the qualities of the narrator and the norms of the auditor), attributed to Ibn al-Mubārak (118 or 119–81/736 or 737–97), a renowned ḥadīth scholar, ‘The chain of transmission is for me a part of the religion. If it were not for the chain, whoever wanted could say whatever he wanted.’ ²⁸ The study of ḥadīth had been widely credited by medieval Muslim historians for establishing the basic methodological apparatus for the knowledge of history as a discipline. Rosenthal notes that al-Ījī prepared the theoretical foundations for a codified knowledge of history by utilising ‘the criteria developed by ḥadīth scholars for the initial evaluation of traditions and upon the principles developed by jurists on the basis of formal logic for the determination of truth and falsehood’. ²⁹

Some scholars did not share a favourable view of the principles and methods of historiography, nor agreed with the opinion that it could be compared with the study of ḥadīth. In the al-Muʿtabar fi-l-ḥikma or Kitāb al-muʿtabar, a commentary and critique of the ideas expressed by Ibn Sīnā (370–428/980–1037) in the Shifāʾ, Abū al-Barakāt al-Baghdādī (ca. 470–560/1077–1164–65) produced a stinging review of the validity of historical narration. He differentiated it from the study of ḥadīth saying:

The principles used in this field of knowledge cannot be demonstrative (yaqiniyya) since they are partial and relative to usage and custom, times and rulers, judgment and judges…and in accordance with circumstances and kinds of evidence about which there is no consensus among people as regards the manner in which they are perceived or known. Thus, he who personally witnesses and knows a prophet who institutes a religious law…cannot be counted as equal in authority to another person who narrates his history. The same holds true for successive narrators later on in various times and countries. ³⁰

This is a primary argument that the lives of prophets are unique in history and transcend the ephemeral qualities of ordinary men. ³¹

Baranī provides a counter to this type of criticism and others by highlighting the moral and ethical benefits accruing from the study of history. The third quality that Baranī lists is that the knowledge of history contributes to the abundance of reason (ʿaql), discernment (shuʿūr), personal opinion (rāʾy) and putting things in order (tadbīr). According to Baranī, through the knowledge of history one gains personal experience through the experience of others. By understanding the misfortunes of others one develops vigilance. Baranī quotes from Aristotle and Buzūrch-mihr, the famed minister of the Sassānid ruler Anūshīrwān, or Khusraw I (r. 531–79), saying that the knowledge of history aids in correct judgment. ³²

For Baranī, history also plays an important advisory role for Muslim rulers. Baranī asserts that the fourth quality of history is that it provides hope to sultans and kings so that they are fortified against the accidents of time. Baranī writes that if they ‘face the difficult challenges of heavenly calamity they are not cut off from hope’. ³³ He insists that the path of today’s generation of leaders is lit by those who have gone before and who applied a remedy to the maladies of the government. It is a view he reiterates in the fifth quality saying that for those who know history (dānandagān-i tārīkh), and the record of the prophets (akhbār-i anbiyāʾ), and their encountering misfortune, and their escaping calamity, history becomes a source of acceptance (riẓā) and patience (ṣabr). He concludes this section saying, ‘The believers in Islam do not lose heart in the face of misfortune.’ ³⁴

For the sixth benefit Baranī focuses more specifically on the instruction history provides for rulers and governance:

History sheds light on the natural dispositions of the good and the just, and the pestilence and killing of the rebellious and tyrannical, for the caliphs, the sultans, ministers, and kings of Islam. The successes of good deeds and the failures of bad character are made evident in the affairs of world rule (umūr-i jahāndārī). And the benefits of news of the activities of the caliphs, the sultans, ministers, and kings will pass on to the common people (ʿāmma-yi khalāʾiq). ³⁵

In this way history assumes an essential function as advice literature and is not merely a record of past events. Historians were frequently employed within courts to supply advice to the ruling powers, as was the case with Baranī.

The final quality of history is that the knowledge of history is based on truth (ṣidq), a discussion that leads into religious polemics. Baranī conceives of history writing as a trust (ʿuhda) for which there are divine rewards and punishments. He claims that ‘whatever the historian writes falsely will, on the Day of Judgment, be the cause of his most severe punishment (sakhtarīn ʿazāb)’. ³⁶ This was a familiar argument. Abū al-Faḍl Bayhaqī (385–470/995–1077) shared a concern for the veracity of the historical record, a view reiterated by his predecessor Miskawayh (ca. 320–421/932–1030). ³⁷ Similarly, al-Ījī laid the theoretical foundations for a codified knowledge of history on the critical principles developed by ḥadīth scholars and jurists who strove ‘for the determination of truth and falsehood’. ³⁸

The Relation between History and Knowledge in the Medieval Islamic World

The eighth/fourteenth century has been recognised by scholars of the Muslim world as one of tremendous intellectual ferment. It was a time when members of learned communities vigorously debated the nature of knowledge (ʿilm). To simplify matters, Muslim scholars argued over the relative value and compatibility of two essential sources of knowledge. One source was said to derive from God, in the form of revelation, and was the basis of the al-ʿulūm al-naqliyya, also referred to as manqūlāt, or the ‘transmitted fields of knowledge’. This represented the study of the Qurʾān and ḥadīth that produced the fields of exegesis (tafsīr), theology (kalām), and law (fiqh). By contrast, the second source of knowledge was derived from human cognition and reason (ʿaql). From this fundamental intellectual capacity, scholars developed the al-ʿulūm al-ʿaqliyya, also referred to as maʿqūlāt, or the ‘rational fields of knowledge’. These were principally understood as: philosophy, math, medicine, logic, and astronomy. Ibn Khaldūn discussed the bifurcated fields of knowledge along these lines, during this period, in the muqaddima to the Kitāb al-ʿibar (The book of lessons). He defines it thus:

It should be known that the sciences with which people concern themselves in cities and which they acquire and pass on through instruction, are of two kinds: one that is natural to man and to which he is guided by his own ability to think, and a traditional kind that he learns from those who invented it. ³⁹

At the same time, the tendency to think of religion and reason as incompatible spheres of knowledge was vigorously disputed by Ibn Taymiyya (661–728/ 1263–1328) who wrote the Darʾ taʿāruḍ al-ʿaql wa-l-naql (The refutation of the contradiction of reason and revelation). ⁴⁰

As such, many historians took the position that historiography, as a discipline, is affiliated with the manqūlāt and closely linked to the study of ḥadīth and its ancillary studies such as fiqh. In the sixth/twelfth century, Ibn Funduq, in his Tārīkh-i Bayhaq, placed history in a category with the study of ḥadith and genealogy. He argues that the ‘affairs of the world cannot be known through reason (ʿaql)’. ⁴¹ In his view, as historical events cannot be perceived directly, their study cannot be based on reason. ⁴² Ibn Funduq’s arguments concerning reason and history are understandable in light of the larger intellectual discussions of the day. For instance, debates swirled concerning the relationship between philosophy and theology in the Ghūrid and Khwārazimshāh courts that provided patronage for Fakhr al-Dīn al-Rāzī (543–606/1149–1209). Figures like al-Rāzī were pivotal in stretching and reshaping the boundaries and compatibilities between the two spheres of knowledge. ⁴³ Frank Griffel notes, ‘At the turn of the seventh/thirteenth century, many state authorities in the Muslim east supported rationalist Ashʿari theology against attacks that came from the more conservative scholarly establishment and from the populace.’ ⁴⁴ During the same period, but on the other side of the Muslim world, Ibn Khaldūn discussed the bifurcated categories of knowledge between ʿulūm al-naqliyya al-waḍʿiyya and ʿulūm al-ḥikmiyya al-falsafiyya. ⁴⁵ In the muqaddima to his history he envisioned knowledge as deriving from two sources: human intellect (ʿaql) and divine revelation (waḥy). Regarding Ibn Khaldūn’s position on the rational fields of knowledge (al-ʿulūm al-ʿaqliyya), Ziad Ahmad notes that, ‘they have nothing to do with religion in the sense that they are not affiliated to any particular religion. They belong to everyone, every society and every religion at all times.’ ⁴⁶ As such Ibn Khaldūn had a much more favourable view of the maʿqūlāt.

Baranī took a firm stance in these debates by expressing his shared distaste, to put it mildly, for the rational fields of knowledge, saying that they ‘lead to doubt in the religion of the correct way and the community’. ⁴⁷ Baranī did not reject reason, but rather the systematised fields of rational knowledge that, in his view, has gone astray. It was a view he reiterated in the Fatāwá-yi jahāndārī (Edicts of world rule) where he argued that the ‘supposed’ rational fields of knowledge (maʿqūlāt), derived from Greek learning (ʿilm-i yunāniyān), were opposed to the transmitted fields of knowledge (manqūlāt). ⁴⁸ His overall position in the grand debates of the period certainly greatly shaped his views of history.

Baranī comments on the attention given to all fields of knowledge, both the maʿqūlāt and manqūlāt, during the reign of ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn Khalajī (r. 695–715/ 1296–1316). ⁴⁹ Baranī records in his own time that Muḥammad b. Tughluq took great interest in philosophy and the rational fields of knowledge, to the point, in his view, that he did not see the validity in anything else. ⁵⁰ This is at least partially corroborated by Ibn Baṭṭūṭa who noted that Muḥammad b. Tughluq dedicated time following prayer to the discussion of the rational fields of knowledge (al-ʿulūm al-maʿqulāt). ⁵¹ Baranī attributed the hard-heartedness of Muḥammad b. Tughluq in ordering the death of believers to his supposed fascination for the rational fields of knowledge. ⁵² Debates over the maʿqūlāt and manqūlāt within Muslim intellectual communities, while intense in the eighth/fourteenth century, were certainly not new. Abū Ḥāmid al-Ghazālī (450–505/1058–1111) formulated one of the most influential polemics on the standing of philosophy in relation to the transmitted fields of knowledge. In the Tahāfut al-falāsifah (The incoherence of the philosophers) he criticised the philosophers (ḥukamāʾ) saying,

There is neither firm foundation nor perfection in the doctrine they hold; that they judge in terms of suppositions and surmise, without verification or certainty; that they use the appearance of their mathematical and logical sciences as evidential proof for their metaphysical sciences, using [this] as a gradual enticement for the weak of mind. ⁵³

Some of Baranī’s negative attitudes towards the maʿqūlāt may be reflected in prevailing ideas about reason within Sufi circles of the period. Niz̤ām al-Dīn Awliyāʾ (ca. 640/1243–725/1325), perhaps the most celebrated Sufi shaykh in eighth/fourteenth century Delhi, on occasion detailed his views about rationalism. His thoughts on the subject are known through his oral teachings, collected by Amīr Ḥasan Sijzī (655/1257–733/1336) in the Fawāʾid al-fuʾād. Here he postulates a basic distinction between the scholars (ʿulamāʾ), who are the people of reason (ahl-i ʿaql), and the dervishes (darwīshān), who are the people of love (ahl-i ʿishq), not seeming to criticise either orientation citing that prophets possessed the abilities of both groups. ⁵⁴ However, Sijzī indicates that Niz̤ām al-Dīn Awliyāʾ demonstrated the inherent superiority (ghalaba) of love over reason by reciting an illustrative verse and providing a related anecdote to the same effect. The fact that Niz̤ām al-Dīn Awliyāʾ considered reason as inadequate to answering deep spiritual questions is found in another discourse on an occasion when he was questioned about the seeming contradiction in the human–divine relationship. The questioner posed, how is it possible that there could ever be a personal relationship between God and man, as one is a low creature and the other, the exalted perfect being of God? Niz̤ām al-Dīn Awliyāʾ indicated that the answer to this question was not expressible through language. ⁵⁵

In another discourse Niz̤ām al-Dīn Awliyāʾ lists three means of acquiring knowledge: the sensory faculty (ḥiss), the rational faculty (ʿaql), and the spiritual faculty (quds). He believes ʿaql and quds are divided into two kinds of knowledge, the self-evident (kasbi) and the axiomatic (badīhī). For him clearly the highest mode of acquiring knowledge is through quds that he equates with the abilities of prophets. He ends the discourse with a further anecdote of how the quds cannot be comprehended through rational discourse. ⁵⁶ Niz̤ām al-Dīn Awliyāʾ’s subtle critique, not rejection, of reason comes down to a religious sensibility. His views were developed through a religious education with a general emphasis on the ḥadīth, and as a follower of the Ḥanafī school of Islamic law, who received much of his training from scholars in Delhi. ⁵⁷

In another teaching, Niz̤ām al-Dīn Awliyāʾ relates an anecdote concerning an encounter between Shihāb al-Dīn Suhrawardī (549/1154–587/1191), a caliph, and a philosopher, whose names are not mentioned. Here Shihāb al-Dīn Suhrawardī is said to have won an important argument with the philosopher who was corrupting the Caliph with ideas concerning the movement of bodies through space. The philosopher had concluded that ‘heavenly movement’ (ḥarakat-i falak) is ‘natural’ (ṭabīʿī). Suhrawardī countered the philosopher’s arguments noting that an angel produces the movement of the sky through God’s command. This he demonstrates by revealing the angel who was hidden to the vision of the Caliph and the philosopher. The anecdote concludes by announcing that the Caliph turned away from the philosopher’s ‘teaching’ (mazhab) and returned to the ‘religion of Islam’ (dīn-i islām). ⁵⁸ The aim of this lesson was to discuss the reports of shaykhs ‘flying’ (ṭayarān) which is dealt with in an accompanying anecdote. In passing, certain philosophical ideas about the nature of movement are criticised. This certainly indicates the manner in which rational explanations were challenged in regard to the supernatural capabilities of shaykhs.

The teachings of Niz̤ām al-Dīn Awliyāʾ do not provide the kind of categorical statement that Baranī gives on the maʿqūlāt. It is difficult on the basis of Baranī, and other authors of the time, to discern clearly the direction of the debates in eighth/fourteenth century, within religious and intellectual circles, and within the royal court, relative to the standing of the manqāulāt and maʿqūlat. However, these writings do provide some insight into the general view of knowledge that circulated within Niz̤ām al-Dīn Awliyāʾ’s group of religious followers. Baranī was deeply influenced by Niz̤ām al-Dīn Awliyāʾ and spent much time in his company. Muḥammad b. Mubārak Kirmānī (fl. 752/1351–790/1382), also known as Amīr Khwurd, added a biographical entry on Baranī to his important Siyar al-awilyāʾ, a hagiographical account of Niz̤ām al-Dīn Awliyāʾ and other Sufi shaykhs of the period, noting his influence on him. ⁵⁹ It is important to note in this context that Baranī was buried near the tomb of Niz̤ām al-Dīn Awliyāʾ, according to his wishes.

These debates certainly continued in history writing and within different Sufi literatures. Ali Anooshahr has discussed a transformation in the intellectual attitudes towards history and human agency that took place over the tenth/sixteenth century, but eventually crystallised in Mughal court policies. He points out the interesting case where the genres of manāqib and wāqiʿāt are wedded with increasing difficulty, as in the writings of Rizq Allāh Mushtāqī (d. 989/1581) and his Wāqiʿāt-i Mushtāqī. ⁶⁰ In an earlier instance from the late eighth/fourteenth century, Shams al-Dīn Sirāj ʿAfīf writes his Tārīkh-i Fīrūzshāhī with an introduction dedicated to elucidating the qualities of kingship as being based on the attributes of Sufi shaykhs, described as maqāmāt or stages. ⁶¹ In fact, his history fits entirely within the genre of manāqib literature and it is only after the fact referred to as tārīkh, the original title of his work being lost. ⁶²

The stark contrast between historiography as split between rational and traditional fields of knowledge was not accepted by all historians. Al-Ījī situates historiography within an intellectual framework of three different fields of knowledge: the sharʿiyya field of knowledge (ʿilm al-sharʿiyya), the philosophical field of knowledge (ʿilm al-ḥikmiyya) and the literary field of knowledge (ʿilm al-adabiyya). He viewed the knowledge of history as a subset of ʿilm al-adabiyya. ⁶³ For al-Ījī, the knowledge of history began with the certainty of time attached to the report (akhbār) of events with the related parts: biography (ʿilm al-siyar), historiography (ʿilm al-taʾrīkh), prophetic history (ʿilm al-qiṣaṣ), genealogy (ʿilm al-ansāb), and others. ⁶⁴ Al-Ījī views historiography as a generating force for religious knowledge such as: understanding the acts of God, his prophets, understanding the Qurʾān, and the general superiority of Islam to other religions. ⁶⁵ He claims, in perhaps his most critical observation, that ‘most of the religious sciences are based on historical knowledge and in many cases require it’. ⁶⁶ He defines the religious fields of knowledge as theology (al-ilāhīyāt), prophetology (al-nubuwwāt), revealed knowledge (al-samʿīyāt), Qurʾānic exegesis (tafsīr), ḥadīth, fiqh, mysticism, and preaching (al-waʿẓ wa-l-tazkīr).

Conclusion

Looking back on the eighth/fourteenth century, in light of al-Ījī and with the hindsight of al-Sakhāwī, it is evident that Baranī’s prolegomena to the Tārīkh-i Fīrūzshāhī fits within the writings that defend history against critics. During this period, Muhammad Qasim Zaman has argued that ‘The overlap and fluidity of genres are nonetheless readily discernible in the scholarly culture of the period, which means that no firm barriers separated the scholars rooted in the sharīʿa sciences from those excelling in other disciplines’. ⁶⁷ Baranī wished to restore the ‘firm barriers’ by establishing the knowledge of history on the basis of the transmitted fields of knowledge. In this sense, his was a traditional and conservative defence of historiography. It was in the ninth/fifteenth century around 867/1463, that Muḥyī al-Dīn Muḥammad b. Sulaymān al-Kāfiyajī said, with full confidence, that historiography ‘is a field of knowledge just like jurisprudence, grammar, and rhetoric are branches of the codified fields of knowledge’ (annahu ʿilm ka-sāʾir al-ʿulūm al-mudawwana ka’l-fiqh wa’l naḥw wa’l bayān). ⁶⁸ Baranī would certainly have agreed with this statement as he made the same argument in his introduction. To this end Baranī had fashioned for history a place amongst the studies of the Qurʾān and ḥadīth, thus taking his personal stance in the knowledge debates of the period.