What about the differences?
Regarding the story of Abraham and the idols, MENJ makes note of what
he calls the "glaring differences" between the Midrashic and Qur'anic
versions of the story. Indeed, a common Muslim approach to the theory of
borrowing has always been to ask rhetorical questions along the lines of
"if Muhammad copied this from the Bible or Midrash, why are there
differences?" It is our opinion that such an argument is crude to say the
least.
First, as has already been stated, Muhammad can be removed from the
equation. Second, it is not required that the authors of the Qur'an got
their material directly from the text that holds the story. Even Tisdall,
who made idiotic assumptions about Muhammad's relation to the text, presents
a clear argument that sums up the issue of differences:
Comparing, now, this
Jewish story with what we saw of it in the Koran, little difference will
be found and what there is no doubt arose from Muhammad hearing of it by
the ear from the Jews.
[St. Clair-Tisdall, "The Sources of Islam," in Warraq (ed.) Origins
of the Koran, (Prometheus, 1998) p. 242]
If we can ignore, for a second, Tisdall's unfounded assumptions about Muhammad
and the Jews (which is an assumption derived from a liberal reading of
the traditional material that allegedly records Muhammad's life), we can
catch his point. A theory of religious borrowing does not depend on a verbatim
retelling of the story by the later source. On the contrary, differences
are to be expected, particularly as the story moves from one source to
the next.
The reality is that distortions over time are a natural part of such
a transfer, thus to harp on them is worthless as far as refuting the theory
goes. These differences can arise out of a deliberate attempt to change
the story, or through the accidental loss of key points (which was Tisdall's
argument); both scenarios should be considered.
First, why would an author make a deliberate change? The authors may
be taking a story that they feel is relevant to the current situation,
and only needs to make minor (or major) alterations to repackage it for
a new audience. This sort of Midrashic approach to finding moral
value in the heroes of the past is one that exists in the ethical writings
of every literate culture, and is well known to literary authorities:
In the re-creation
of the myth by outstanding individual artists, the hero's quest becomes
a critique of the existing social norms and points to a futuristic
order which is envisaged as integrating the valuable residues of the past
and present.
[Harry Slochower, Mythopoesis: Mythic Patterns in Literary Classics,
(Wayne State, 1973), p. 34]
This is precisely the scenario we have with Qur'anic accounts of Abraham,
where the author(s) saw a man who embodied a set of cultural values that
were far greater than those found among the people living at the dawn of
Islam. The core of the story is what has value, while the minor details
can be altered. An analogous example of this concept of anchoring a story
to a key theme is the evolution of Hebrew literature:
[T]he term "midrash"
is used to refer to the Jewish tradition of the interpretive retelling
of biblical stories that began within the Bible itself, developed in the
rabbinic and medieval periods, and, I believe, has continued to the present.
As an example of how this tradition has been sustained I would cite the
retelling of the biblical account of the binding of Isaac (Genesis 22)
by Hebrew writers of rabbinic legend, medieval piyyut (liturgical
poetry), and modern poetry. [...] From a literary point of view, the rabbinic,
medieval, and modern authors of these retold versions of the story of the
binding of Isaac created new works out of the biblical text in significantly
different ways that reflect each period's literary norms and its attitude
toward the Bible. Nevertheless, these authors share a common midrashic
impulse to use the Bible as a source of characters, plots, images and themes
in order to represent contemporary issues and concerns. For authors of
midrash, the way that a biblical text can serve as a meaningful vehicle
for the representation of contemporary reality is by transforming it, sometimes
even to the point of turning it on its head.
[David C. Jacobson, Modern Midrash, (SUNY, 1987), pp. 1-3]
The retelling of a story with deliberate glosses and/or changes is a reality
in every age. One might consider the movies West Side Story, China
Girl, or A Bronx Tale, all of which were influenced by Shakespeare's
Romeo and Juliet. All three movies display some major differences
from the original text of the play, yet are obvious retellings of the story.
Should we doubt that the latest Hollywood version of Romeo Juliet,
staring Leonardo Dicraprio, was a retelling of the play simply because
in the movie the characters carry guns rather than swords?
For another example, consider a story about a miracle-worker, with the
initials J.C., who performs magical healings and even raises the dead.
This gentle man is from the oppressed class of a stratified society, and
has been sentenced to death by the authorities who are from the oppressor
class. Though this peaceful healer is mocked, and eventually executed,
he manages to make believers out of members of the dominant ethnic group.
Is this story about Jesus Christ as found in the gospels, or is it about
John Coffee as found in the movie The Green Mile? The movie was
definitely based on the gospel account of Jesus, and pointing out that
John Coffee was African American, not Jewish, and was executed by white
Americans rather than Romans, does not escape this fact.
One could go on and cite examples such as William Golding's Lord
of the Flies being a rework of the story found in Ballantyne's The
Coral Island, but the essential point should be obvious: differences
do not automatically exclude the possibility of borrowing. However, up
to this point we have only touched on deliberate changes. Far more likely
would be a scenario, alluded to by Tisdall, where the changes are inadvertent.
When one gets into the roles of the reader, the writer, the teller,
and the listener, the more impugnable qualities of the Muslim song about
differences becomes apparent. The sort of philosophical understanding of
language needed here was touched on in our article on the exegetical anarchy
of religious texts. There is a constant reinterpretation of past events,
and this can cause subtle changes not noticed by those who try to gain
an understanding. The great philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein asked a couple
of questions that were designed to help people become aware of this subconscious
reinterpretation:
I see us still, sitting
at that table. But have I really the same visual image - or one of those
that I had then? Do I also certainly see the table and my friend from the
same point of view as then, and not see myself?
[David Edmonds & John Eidinow, Wittgenstein's Poker, (Harper
Collins, 2001) p. 6]
There are so many places in human experience that leave an account (be
it historical or fictional) susceptible to change. As Dr. Jeremiah McAuliffe
once pointed out, human beings could be called "homo hermeneuticus,
the creature-that-interprets." Even writing or relating an event from your
own life results in unwanted distortion as you attempt to reduce it to
mere words. One philosopher asked the following question:
How many times have
I gone to my old diary and re-read an episode from decades ago, only to
discover how crazily I had distorted it in the intervening years!
[Douglas Hofstadter, Le Ton Beau de Marot, (Basic, 1997), p.
484]
When an individual comes into contact with a story, they understand it
in light of so many past experiences. The fact that each individual leads
a wholly unique life makes for different understandings (no matter how
minor) of the same story. This change in understanding will cause the story
to enter an altered state when it is related to the next link in the chain
of transmitters. This is true of both written and oral accounts:
[The method of existential
criticism] is brilliantly satirized in Borges' story of Pierre Menard,
whose life's work it was to rewrite a couple of chapters of Don Quixote,
not by copying them, but by total identification with Cervantes. Borges
quotes a passage from Cervantes and a passage from Menard which is identical
with it to the letter, and urges us to see how much more historical resonance
there is in the Menard copy. The satire shows us clearly that nothing will
get around the fact that writer and reader are different entities in time
and space, that whenever we read anything, even a letter from a friend,
we are translating it into something else.
[Northrop Frye, The Secular Scripture, (Harvard, 1978), p. 162]
This long-winded argument should be more than enough to demonstrate that
differences in two accounts of the same story are in no way a defeator
for the borrowing theory. These differences should be expected in light
of the above, especially in the case of a move from a Jewish community
to a Muslim community, where the story moves from Hebrew to Arabic. Of
course, we could have best summed this up by making an analogy towards
a game of "Telephone" (or "Grapevine"), but we wanted to really drive the
point home.
Logically inavlid?
The mu'minin in the Islamic Awareness team, as well as other
net-dawagandists, have argued that the borrowing theory is fallacious.
It must be conceded that from a purely logical standpoint, the argument
is deductively invalid. The reason for this is rooted in the mode of thinking
employed to reach a conclusion of "religious borrowing." It is realized
that there are striking similarities between passages from the Qur'an and
much older stories that existed among near-by religious communities. It
is then inferred that this similarity could have come about through religious
borrowing. The subtle and implicit train of thought imbedded in such argumentation
would go as follows:
Premise: If the author(s) of the Qur'an borrowed material from
contemporary religious groups, there would be similarities in the stories.
Premise: There are similarities in the stories.
Conclusion: The author(s) of the Qur'an borrowed stories from
others.
Such an argument is deductively invalid, and the fallacy committed is known
as "affirming the consequent." However, the reason that no deductively
valid syllogistic reconstruction of the theory of borrowing can be put
forth is simply because it is not a deductive argument! Such a conclusion
was adduced from the relevant evidence, not deduced, and
this is an important distinction.
A case can be made that every case of abduction is invalid. The Islamic
Awareness team tried to argue that there are other possibilities (both
stories are from God, et cetera), and indeed other sources
are always possible in an adductive inference. This is true of even the
most absurd cases. For example, if your friend is the only one in the kitchen
when you leave, and your muffin is gone when you come back, you can infer,
via abduction, that your friend ate the muffin. Of course, such an inference
would be deductively invalid, and there could be other possibilities (maybe
aliens "beamed up" your muffin).
However, a good abduction is the best guess, or the most likely possibility.
So, it would seem that we would not be abusing Occam's razor if we assumed
your friend took your muffin, and the same would be true for the theory
of borrowing. In the case of the muffin, it is possible that aliens are
the culprits, and with the religious parallels it is possible that both
stories are from God. Unfortunately for the theists and UFO-buffs, however,
both instances introduce new, unnecessary, and wholly unproven premises.
To give one last analogy, imagine that there is a belief in three-toed
elves who turn water into gold among a certain group of Korean nationals.
These Korean nationals then move to Alaska in the year 1960, and take their
belief in three-toed elves with them. By 1970, Eskimos in the region reveal
a belief in three-toed elves who turn water into gold. There is no solid
evidence of these elves, but both communities believe in them. It would
seem that one would be justified in inferring that the origin of the Eskimo
belief can be found among the Korean community that traveled to the region.
Only an appeal to dogma on the part of the Eskimos would motivate anyone
to doubt such a stance.
So, in the end it would seem that religious borrowing theories are not
as absurd as the Muslims would like people to believe. The reality is that
in the time and place that the Qur'an finds its origin, stories about Abraham
smashing idols were told among a community of Monotheists. Then the Qur'an,
a book which bares many similarities to the said religious community, comes
to contain nearly identical stories. We could postulate a scenario where
both stories fell out of the sky, but it seems more reasonable to lean
towards a theory of religious borrowing in light of the temporal, religious
and geographical connections.
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