SOURCE: Najjar, Fauzi M. “Al-Farabi on Political Science.” Muslim World 48, no. 2 (1958): 94-103.

[In the following essay, Najjar explains that, in al-Fārābī's view, political science is another term for practical wisdom and cannot be separated from philosophy and metaphysics.]

Al-Fārābī discusses the subject matter as well as the function of political science in Chapter 5 of his Iḥṣā’ al-‘Ulūm, or “Classification of the Sciences”.¹ In the same chapter he treats the Islamic religious sciences of fiqh (Jurisprudence) and kalām (Theology). That fiqh and kalām should be treated in a chapter devoted to political science is not accidental, and the significance of this arrangement may be grasped in the light Al-Fārābī's conception of political science and its place among the other sciences.

Philosophy or science, he says, consists of two parts: theoretical philosophy and practical philosophy.² Theoretical philosophy supplies knowledge of the things that we cannot make or change. They are objects of knowledge only. Practical philosophy, on the other hand, supplies knowledge of the things which we can know and do. Practical philosophy is also called political philosophy or political science.

Theoretical philosophy consists of three parts: mathematics, physics and metaphysics or theology. Each one of these sciences confines itself to one class of beings as a theme of knowledge. Practical philosophy consists of two parts: ethics, or what Al-Fārābī calls the “ethical art” which supplies knowledge of the noble actions and the moral dispositions from which the noble actions proceed and the philosophy of government or politics proper. While ethics occupies itself with the noble things as far as individual men are concerned, politics “supplies knowledge of the things by which the noble things and the manner of acquiring and preserving them for the inhabitants of the city are realized.”³ Ethics and politics treat of the same subject matter—the noble things—but each from a different angle. They are not two different disciplines but two different approaches. Ethics is limited to the consideration of actions and virtues of individual men, while politics is limited to the consideration of actions and virtues of associations of men in social groups.

This, says Al-Fārābī, is the sum of the parts of the art of philosophy. One immediately notices that he has ignored the threefold division of practical wisdom into economics, ethics and politics which goes back to Aristotle. His silence must be understood in the light of the fact that in the Iḥṣā’—his most important statement about the classification of the sciences—he is silent not only about economics but about ethics as well. In his enumeration of the opinions common to the “inhabitants of the virtuous city,” he passes immediately from the opinions concerning God and the Universe, happiness and the principles of beings, without a single word about the virtues.⁴

Political science thus assumes a predominant position. It is equated with practical wisdom. As defined by Al-Fārābī, political science

examines the different classes of voluntary actions and ways of life, and the habits, moral characters, inclinations and natural dispositions out of which these actions and ways of life are derived, and the ends for which they are performed. It also examines how they ought to exist in man, the manner of their ordering … and their preservation. It (political science) distinguishes between the ends for which actions are performed and ways of life followed. It demonstrates that some of these ends constitute true happiness, others imaginary happiness; and that that which is true happiness cannot possibly be attained in this life but in the life to come. It also demonstrates that the actions and ways of life that would lead to true happiness are the noble things and the virtues, and the condition of their existence in man is that they should be properly and commonly practiced in cities and nations.⁵

Al-Fārābī's political science or political philosophy, like classical political philosophy, starts with ends; it takes its bearings by how men ought to live, or better, by what they ought to be, and not by how they live or by what they are. If political science takes its bearings by man's natural end, and if happiness is the highest of human ends, political science must be the highest of all sciences, the most “architectonic” as Aristotle put it. Happiness is the good desired for its own sake, it is the ultimate end of man, his perfection. If happiness can be attained only in a political community,⁶ and if the distinction between true and imaginary happiness precedes the distinction between virtue and vice, perfect and imperfect, ethics ceases to be an autonomous study of the moral virtues and becomes subordinate to political science. The distinction between good and bad, virtue and vice, perfect and imperfect, is made not by a science of ethics separate from politics, but a science of politics which, in its broad sense, includes both ethics and politics. This being the case, it would no longer be necessary or possible to divorce ethics from politics. In other words, there is no ethics that precedes politics or is separable from it.⁷

Political science or political philosophy assumes this priority because it treats of ends, not for individual men, but for political communities. Ethics treats of the régime of the individual man himself, while political science treats of regulations and prescriptions by which men govern or guide other men. Politics is concerned with the realization of happiness for man through the agency of the political association, the city or the state. It is rather difficult to make a distinction between politics and ethics in view of the fact that actions, habits and institutions are not separate classes of things each characteristic of a certain science, as in the case of the theoretical sciences. Politics and ethics are not separate sciences treating of independent subject matters, but different approaches to common problems. The practical sciences are not independent of one another. What one science makes another uses. The end of one becomes in turn the means of realizing that of another. Politics or the royal art alone uses the products of all the other practical arts in order to produce happiness which is the highest of all practical goods. The moral virtues—products of the ethical art—are means for political ends. If the study of man's natural end belongs to politics and not to ethics, the moral virtues can only be understood with a view to their political function. Virtue is the concern of politics insofar as it contributes to man's perfection. Al-Fārābī's subordination of ethics to politics means that the moral life is not the highest type of life, that the moral virtues and their exercise are not man's ultimate end. The highest perfection peculiar to man is intellectual perfection or what Al-Fārābī calls kamāl nazarī.⁸

This ‘architectonic’ position of politics is assigned to it not only in relation to the practical sciences, but to the theoretical sciences as well—a conclusion confirmed in a statement in the treatise on the attainment of happiness—Taḥṣīl al-Sa‘ādah. We shall render as literal a translation as possible of this important statement. After stating that man's ultimate perfection is realizable by certain rational principles, and that material objects are necessary for its realization, Al-Fārābī continues as follows:

… and that by nature each [man] has to be bound with other men in everything he seeks. He, therefore, needs to associate with his kind, and for this reason he is called the social or political animal. Hence, arises another science and another type of speculation which searches for these rational principles, and for the actions and habits by which man seeks his perfection. This is human or political science. It [this science] begins by speculating about the beings that are beyond the natural beings, following the same methods used in the study of the natural beings … Until it [political science] reaches a certain being which is the first principle of all beings. Once it gets to know this being, it will then examine what the order of all beings ought to be if that being were the principle and the cause of their existence … It will know things by their first causes.⁹

This, says Al-Fārābī, is the “divine speculation about beings.” If political science determines what true happiness is, and if true happiness consists of the knowledge of ‘separate beings’, God and the angels,¹⁰ political science must occupy itself with things ‘divine.’ Consequently, it is no more possible to separate ‘political’ and ‘divine’ things. This may partially explain why Al-Fārābī discusses the religious sciences of fiqh and kalām as corollaries to political science.

There is the danger that political science, thus defined or understood, would usurp the function of metaphysics or theology, and the distinction, made at the outset, between theoretical and practical sciences seems to have been blurred. Political science appears to invade the domain of the theoretical sciences of physics and metaphysics.¹¹ Yet Al-Fārābī cannot leave us with such contradictory conclusions; and a little further, he gives us a clue to the connection that exists between metaphysics and politics.

Political science prescribes the opinions about all beings, natural and divine, that the inhabitants of the madīnah fāḍilah ought to have in common. In Al-Fārābī's system, as in Plato's, metaphysics and politics are intimately connected. This close connection is intimated in his identification of the Imām—head of the Muslim politico-religious community—with the philosopher.¹² But to identify the Imām or ra'īs awwal with the philosopher is not to identify politics and metaphysics (philosophy). What then is the connection between politics and metaphysics? In what sense does political science concern itself with the theoretical sciences? Political science concerns itself with the theoretical sciences insofar as they are related to the organization and life of the political community. It seeks to discover the rational principles by which people living in political associations attain happiness, everyone according to his natural disposition.¹³

Political science concerns itself with the theoretical sciences for more than formal reasons. Since the end of political science is man's happiness as a member of the political community, and since happiness or perfection depends not only on actions but also on opinions, it prescribes the kind of opinions the ‘inhabitants of the city’ should possess in common. These ‘opinions’ include knowledge of the First Cause, the separate intelligences, the celestial substances, man and the universe, happiness and life after death.¹⁴ Political science, as ‘architectonic’ science and art of arts, exercises supervision and control over all the other sciences and arts, insofar as they are relevant to the life of the city. It is in this sense that political science occupies such a predominant position in Al-Fārābī's political and philosophical system. In view of the basic distinction between ‘theoretical’ and ‘practical,’ one should not confuse the supervision exercised by politics with the treatment of scientific principles in metaphysics.¹⁵ There is something in the other sciences which does not fall within the competence of political science. In Al-Fārābī's Iḥṣā’, metaphysics precedes political science, it follows directly on physics.

The importance of political science in the philosophic system of Al-Fārābī, as well as in the system of his Muslim disciples, can hardly be overemphasized once we realize that it is the only philosophic discipline to which they assigned the study of prophecy and the Sharī‘ah—Muslim Canon Law. It is in their political doctrine that the falāsifah could dispute the very foundation of their thought, i.e., the belief in revelation.¹⁶ The subject of revelation would at first impression be expected to be assigned to metaphysics or theology. In his statement on metaphysics, Al-Fārābī does not even mention revelation or prophecy, the discussion of which is reserved to his purely ‘political books’.¹⁷ “Political science,” he says “explains how revelation emanates from God to the first chief, and with it he manages the affairs of the city, nation or nations.”¹⁸ It supplies knowledge about the nature and possibility of prophecy, and explains the need of mankind for the Sharī‘ah. It makes the distinction between true and spurious prophecy.¹⁹ By making revelation or prophecy a subject of political and not of speculative philosophy. Al-Fārābī, as a philosopher, could suspend judgment as to its truth while at the same time justifying its social necessity.

The subordination of prophecy to the science of politics is made possible by the nature of the Islamic religion. Islam, like Judaism, is not primarily a faith, but a law, a Sharī‘ah, which God reveals to mankind through a prophet. The prophet is not only a man of vision, he is also a law-giver—wadī‘ al-nawāmīs whose proper function is to establish laws and justice among men, and show them the way towards a happy life in this world and the next.²⁰ This juridical and political understanding of religion is at the basis of Islam and Judaism.²¹ To the falāsifah, therefore, prophecy presents itself as an essentially political fact. As such, and as a universally valid and binding law, it envisages a perfect political order. According to Maimonides, who knew his Al-Fārābī well, the founding of a perfect nation and thus the proclamation of a perfect law to serve as a constitution for the perfect nation, is the raison d'être of prophecy.²²

The perfect state or nation envisaged by the Sharī‘ah reminds one of its philosophic equivalent in Plato's political philosophy. The Prophet or the Imām who is the first chief of the politico-religious community, occupies in the political philosophy of Al-Fārābī the same position that the philosopher-king occupies in Plato's political philosophy.²³ It is therefore in Plato's writings, especially the Republic and the Laws, that we find the philosophic system for which the notion of law, and especially divine law, is essential. It is no accident that Al-Fārābī wrote a commentary on Plato's Laws and a summary of his philosophy;²⁴ and it is in his prophetology that we for the first time find Platonic political philosophy stated in Islamic terms. This common ground that existed between Islam and Plato's political philosophy, enabled Al-Fārābī and his disciples to give a philosophical explanation of the Sharī‘ah. This explanation or philosophic justification is based on the equation, in Al-Fārābī's system, of the Prophet or the Imām with the philosopher-king of Plato.

Al-Fārābī teaches us that man is by nature a political animal who can satisfy his basic needs and realize his perfections only in political association.²⁵ The natural differences among men are so great that political life becomes impossible.²⁶ A law is therefore necessary to maintain order and establish justice and harmony. But why divine law? True happiness or perfection, according to Al-Fārābī, consists of the well-being of the soul, i.e., the knowledge of the principles of beings, God and the “spiritual bodies.” But this kind of knowledge is accessible only to the philosophers—Ahl al-burhān. Most men need to be guided to truth. A law in general is necessary to establish justice among men, and a divine law in particular to direct them to some form of knowledge of the truth. Human law leads to the well-being of the body, divine law (revelation) to the well-being of the soul. It guarantees that the masses will achieve a certain degree of happiness. “The well-being of the body,” says Ibn Sīnā, “is guaranteed by politics, while that of the soul by science.”²⁷ Revelation justifies itself by combining both, for man is not only a political being but a spiritual being as well.

Divine law is an exoteric representation of certain esoteric truths that should remain hidden from the masses—jamāhīr. What philosophy renders intelligible by demonstration, divine law represents by means of ‘corporeal’ and ‘political’ things. Divine acts and principles, says Al-Fārābī, are represented in terms of “actions that derive from political principles. This is what Plato does in the Timaeus: he represents intelligibles by their equivalents amongst the objects of sense. Thus the naught is represented by darkness, or true happiness by what is thought to be happiness.”²⁸ Such comparisons cannot be taken literally, they conceal an esoteric teaching while their exoteric sense is of great utility for political life. Political life is a life of action, a life of choice. Action needs belief, not all men are men of demonstration. Divine law is the condition of a uniformity of sentiment and thus of social stability.

The subordination of the Sharī‘ah to political philosophy or political science, led to its justification on grounds of political usefulness and not of theoretical validity. It exhorts people to a peaceful and moral life. The Sharī‘ah presents itself to the philosopher as a system of opinions²⁹ and actions laid down for a political community by its chief the Prophet. The opinions consist of opinions about God, the “spiritual bodies,” the generation of the world, man, his soul and reason, and his rank as compared to God and the “spiritual bodies.” They also supply knowledge of prophecy, revelation and life after death. These theoretical opinions ought to be represented to the inhabitants of the city in a manner that would convey to them the order in the universe. That order serves as a model for the proper organization of the city. The same order that prevails in the universe must also prevail in the city, nation or group of nations.

The actions consist of the actions and practices by which God and the angels are glorified, and those with which prophets and kings are praised.³⁰ Therefore, the Sharī‘ah, like philosophy, consists of two parts: theoretical and practical. The practical part derives its universals—kulliyāt—from the practical part of philosophy. Practical or political philosophy determines the usefulness of the Sharī‘ah and is superior to it. The Sharī‘ah can only be understood with a view to its political function.

This superiority of practical philosophy over the practical part of the Sharī‘ah leads Al-Fārābī to the assertion of the superiority of theoretical philosophy over its theoretical part. As practical philosophy provides justification for the practical part of the Sharī‘ah, so does theoretical philosophy provide justification for its theoretical part. “Therefore, both parts of the Sharī‘ah are below-taḥt-philosophy.”³¹ In what sense is a science or a teaching below another? A thing is said to be “below or part of a certain science in that it derives proofs (for what it teaches without proofs) from that science.” This philosophic justification of the Sharī‘ah amounts to the assertion of the primacy of philosophy over religion.³²

Al-Fārābī's discussion of the religious sciences of fiqh and kalām as corollaries to political science, has served as a clue to his whole philosophic system.³³ He wrote at a time when philosophy and philosophers were persecuted by the rulers of orthodox Islam. Using Plato's political philosophy, he could philosophize without inviting the wrath of his rulers. If Plato used the allegorical method to escape the fate of Socrates, Al-Fārābī attempted to restore philosophy to its classical supremacy without hostility to Islam. The role of politics, however, remains subordinate to Al-Fārābī's purely philosophic intention. This raises the question of the relationship between political science and theoretical philosophy.

The transition from politics to philosophy is closely connected with Al-Fārābī's understanding of man's natural end—his happiness or perfection. When we come to ask what this happiness is, we are confronted by the fact that man has a double nature. He is not only political (human) being, but is also a spiritual or intellectual being with a mind or intellect capable of knowing higher things than things human. Practical or political life is at best a servant—khādimah—of the intellectual life, the life of speculation, what Aristotle calls “theoria.”³⁴ Al-Fārābī leaves us in no doubt as to where he stands on this point. He says that all the faculties of the soul are made “to serve” the rational and are “lower than it in rank and dignity.”³⁵ The rational faculty itself is divided into a theoretical and a practical part, and the practical is subservient to the theoretical. The function of the theoretical is to know and attain happiness.³⁶

His views on man's theoretical perfection or true happiness are stated in his treatise on Plato's Philosophy.³⁷ His understanding of Plato's intention is a clue to his own. What does Al-Fārābī teach in Plato's name? According to Al-Fārābī, Plato was guided by the question of man's happiness or perfection. Man's happiness is realized by “a certain science and a certain way of life.” The science is the science of the essence of each of all beings, and the way of life is the virtuous way of life. Plato discovers that philosophy is the theoretical art that supplies this science, and the royal art is the practical art that supplies the way of life. He also discovers, so Al-Fārābī tells us, that philsopher and king are one and the same.³⁸

The identification of ‘philosopher’ and ‘king’ leads one to believe that philosophy and the political art are identical. Al-Fārābī substantiates this conclusion by saying somewhere else,³⁹ that philosophy is the art by which the ‘noble things’ become our possession and through which we attain happiness. If philosophy is concerned with happiness and if happiness is also the subject of political science, philosophy becomes essentially a political investigation.⁴⁰ This is irreconcilable with Al-Fārābī's sharp distinction between philosophy, the art that supplies the science of the essences of all beings, and politics, the art that provides the virtuous way of life.

The definition of philosophy as the theoretical art that supplies the science of the essence of each of all beings, a definition he maintains as final, leads us to assert that he is far from identifying philosophy with the royal art. Philosophy is the theoretical art which finds its end or its completion in the simple activity of knowing. True or ultimate happiness is knowledge—scientific knowledge—of all beings, natural and divine. The science supplied by the art of philosophy is the maximum of man's perfection and his ultimate end. Philosophy is also identified with the art of demonstration—ṣinā‘at al-burhān—which leads to the science of the beings. The science of the beings is also called philosophy.⁴¹ Philosophy is then essentially theoretical philosophy and, as such, it excludes the study of political and moral subjects. The theoretical life is the highest type of life, it is the highest excellence of the human intellect—of man.

However, philosophy must justify itself by being concerned with moral and political questions. In other words, it has to translate itself into human, i.e., political and moral, terms since it is manifestly concerned with human happines. Al-Fārābī's identification of the Imām or king with the philosopher and his identification of philosophy with the royal art, is another way of recognizing the need for the philosophic reflection upon things human. If the philosopher cannot rule the city, he must act as an adviser to the ruler. Thus Al-Fārābī makes the distinction between the ‘king of the city’ and the ‘manager—mudabbir—of the king of the city’.⁴² The mudabbir is none but the philosopher himself. “Philosophy contains the royal art which is lower than it in rank and dignity.”⁴³

To say that the royal art is lower in rank and dignity than philosophy, is to say that philosophy is necessary for the royal art, and for the virtuous way of life. Yet Al-Fārābī makes the distinction between the “virtuous” royal art and the “non-virtuous” royal art.⁴⁴ The latter does not need the universals of the virtuous royal art, nor does it need philosophy. Non-virtuous kings attain their aims—wealth, pleasure, honour, and power—with the help of an “experimental faculty” acquired by experience in particular actions that lead to such imaginary goods, and the help of a “sensual aptitude” for the knowledge of such actions. “Their life has no fixed purpose, and it is useless to appeal to them to do what is truly good.”⁴⁵ On the other hand, philosophy is necessary, rather indispensable, for the virtuous royal art; it supplies the knowledge of the universals of this art. The ruler of the city must have a perfect knowledge of theoretical philosophy, because it is only by theoretical philosophy (and not the Sharī‘ah or the royal art) that he would have a true knowledge of “God's ordering of the universe and be able to imitate Him.”⁴⁶ The royal art is the virtuous royal art only if it is allied with theoretical philosophy. Philosophy and the royal art are not only two distinct sciences, but also the former is superior to the latter and to divine law.⁴⁷

Al-Fārābī seems also to intimate that the royal art is necessary to philosophy. Philosophy alone is insufficient to guarantee happiness for the political community, it must be supplemented by the royal art. This follows from his initial statement that happiness is realizable by a science and a way of life, and that the royal art supplies the way of life while philosophy supplies the science. How could philosophy be at the same time sufficient and insufficient for the attainment of happiness? The answer may be found in Al-Fārābī's assertion that philosophy is sufficient to produce happiness or perfection to philosophers only.⁴⁸ What about the rest of mankind? Philosophy will guarantee happiness for all men if it were allied with the royal art. It must assume its “royal position” before it can guarantee happiness for the city. This presupposes the realization of the perfect régime which amounts to saying that mankind is doomed. What about the philosophers living in a bad city? They may live happily in “these cities.”⁴⁹ They are forced to live in “these cities” without being parts of them. As “strangers” they are always seeking an “other city,” a city in which philosophy is the royal art.⁵⁰

How can one be truly happy in a place where he does not feel at home? A philosopher living in a bad city is like an animal “with the legs of a dog and the body of a horse.”⁵¹ This unnatural combination leads to the paradoxical conclusion that philosophers cannot be happy in a bad city. The clue to this seeming contradiction lies in Al-Fārābī's distinction between happiness and perfection. Happiness is not the possession of the “noble things” but a state “coextensive” with their possession. The noble things are human (political) things and, as such, they do not exist in a bad city; but so far as man can live the intellectual life, he rises above the merely practical and political, and in so doing he lives a life which is in a higher and in a truer sense his own. For intellect is more truly man's own self than any other part of him. It is the real man. Therefore, man's perfection is the perfection of the best that is in him, his intellect.

It is in this sense that philosophers can achieve true happiness—perfection—in a bad city. They transcend political life and in so doing become “strangers.” However, political life remains essential because man's intellectual life at its best can only be understood in contradistinction to his political life at its best.

Notes

1. Al-Fārābī, Iḥṣā’ al-‘Ulūm, ed. Othmān Amīn (Cairo, 1948), pp. 102-107.

2. Al-Fārābī, Kītāb al-Tanbīh ‘alā Sabīl al-Sa‘ādah. (Hyderabad, 1927), pp. 20-21.

3. Ibid.

4. Al-Fārābī, k. Arā‘ Ahl al-Madīnat-al-Fāḍilah (Cairo, 1948), p. 103.

5. Ibid., pp. 102-103; the author attempted to render the original Arabic without any change in style.

6. Madīnah Fāḍilah 78.

7. Iḥṣā’ 103; cf. Leo Strauss, “Quelques rémarques sur la science politique de Maimonide et de Farabi”, Revue des Études Juives, C (1936), p. 11.

8. Al-Fārābī, Kitāb Taḥṣīl al-Sa‘ādah (Hyderabad, 926), p. 16.

9. Taḥṣīl 14-15.

10. Madīnah Fāḍilah 66.

11. Taḥṣīl 14. It is important to remember in this connection that his most important political books are at the same time metaphysical treatises.

12. Ibid. p. 42.

13. Ibid. p. 16.

14. Madīnah Fāḍilah 102.

15. Iḥṣā’ 99.

16. Strauss, “Quelques rémarques”, pp. 1-2.

17. Madīnah Fāḍilah; Siyāsah Madaniyyah; Millah Fāḍilah only to mention his most important political treatises.

18. Madīnah Fāḍilah, 102; al-Millah al Fāḍilah, Leiden, Cod. Or. Lugd. Bat., MSS, 1002, fol. 59-60.

19. Cf. Avicenna, Tis‘u Rasā'il (Cairo, 1908), p. 108.

20. Revue des Etudes Islamiques, 1935, p. A221.

21. Ibid.

22. Strauss, “Quelques”, p. 20.

23. Madīnah Fāḍilah 87-90; cf. Republic 485-487.

24. Al-Fārābī, Talkhīs Nawāmīs Aflatūn, ed. and trans. Franciscus Gabrieli. Plato Arabus III. London: The Warburg Institute, 1952; Falsafat Aflatūn, ed. and trans. Richard Walzer and Franz Rosenthal. Plato Arabus II. London. The Warburg Institute, 1943.

25. Al-Siyāsāt al-Madaniyyah (Hyderabad, 1927), p. 39; Madīnah Fāḍilah 77-78.

26. In another place Al-Fārābī says that it is these natural differences that make political life possible. If people were of equal and similar natures, a political régime, or political life as such, would have been impossible and unnecessary, Siyāsāt 45-48.

27. Avicenna, op. cit. p. 124.

28. Taḥṣīl 42.

29. Arā’ and not Haqā’iq (truths).

30. Millah fol. 52; note the use of ‘kings’ instead of ‘Imāms’ or ‘Caliphs’.

31. Ibid. fol. 53.

32. The language of the manuscript is confusing, another reading of the word taḥt might change the whole meaning.

33. In Madīnah Fāḍilah 97, Al-Fārābī mentions fiqh right after dancing in the hierarchy of arts.

34. Aristotle, N. Ethics, vi.6.1141a.

35. Madinah Fāḍilah 67-68; cf. Galeni, Compendium Timaei Platonis. (“Corpus Platonicum Medii Aevi Ser. II, V. I”, Londonii, 1951), p. 33.

36. Siyasāt 43.

37. Falsafat Aflatūn. I owe the central theme of this interpretation to Professor Leo Strauss's comprehensive study of this important treatise, “Farabi's Plato”, American Academy for Jewish Research, I (1945), 357-393.

38. Falsafat Aflatūn 3-4.

39. Ibid. pp. 12-13; cf. Tis‘u Rasā'il, 124.

40. Millah fol. 55.

41. Tanbīh 71; cf. Strauss, “Farabi's Plato”. 364-65.

42. Millah fol. 60.

43. Ibid. fol. 53.

44. Ibid. fol. 58; Iḥṣā’ 106.

45. Millah fol. 58; Iḥṣā’ 107; cf. Aristotle, N. Ethics, i. 3. 1095a: “Theory is as unprofitable to persons of this character (juvenile) as it is to the morally weak. On the other hand, those whose appetites and acts are guided by a consistent rule (rational principle) will find a knowledge of the theory to be of the highest value.”

46. Millah fol. 60.

47. Ibid. fol. 58; cf. N. Ethics, vi.3.1141a: “It is evident also that philosophic wisdom and the art of politics cannot be the same; for if the state of mind concerned with a man's own interests is to be called philosophic wisdom, there will be many philosophic wisdoms …”

48. Falsafat Aflatūn 4; Madīnah Fāḍilah 78-79.

49. Siyāsāt 50.

50. Falsafat Aflatūn 20.

51. Millah fol. 56.