Soul PDF

Christian Kanzian, Muhammad Legenhausen (Eds.
)
Soul
A Comparative Approach
Christian Kanzian,
Muhammad Legenhausen (Eds.)
Soul
A Comparative Approach
Bibliographic information published by Deutsche Nationalbibliothek
The Deutsche Nationalbibliothek lists this publication in the Deutsche Nationalbibliographie;
detailed bibliographic data is available in the Internet at http://dnb.ddb.de
This research-project was made possible by financial support from the Austria Science Fund
(FWF), grant P201860-G14.
North and South America by

Transaction Books
Rutgers University
Piscataway, NJ 08854-8042
trans@transactionpub.com
United Kingdom, Eire, Iceland, Turkey, Malta, Portugal by

Gazelle Books Services Limited
White Cross Mills
Hightown
LANCASTER, LA1 4XS
sales@gazellebooks.co.uk
Livraison pour la France et la Belgique:

Librairie Philosophique J.Vrin
6, place de la Sorbonne; F-75005 PARIS
Tel. +33 (0)1 43 54 03 47; Fax +33 (0)1 43 54 48 18
www.vrin.fr
2010 ontos verlag

P.O. Box 15 41, D-63133 Heusenstamm
www.ontosverlag.com
ISBN 978-3-86838-020-0
2010
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in retrieval systems or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, microfilming, recording or otherwise
without written permission from the Publisher, with the exception of any material supplied specifically for the
purpose of being entered and executed on a computer system, for exclusive use of the purchaser of the work
Printed on acid-free paper

FSC-certified (Forest Stewardship Council)
This hardcover binding meets the International Library standard
Printed in Germany
by buch bücher dd ag
Table of Contents
Christian Kanzian, Muhammad Legenhausen

Preface of the Editors 7
Maḥmūd RAJABĪ
Welcoming Remarks: On the Value of Science in Islam 9
‘Abdullah Javadi AMULI

Knowledge of the Soul as Path 17
Mohammad Fanaei ESHKEVARI

Self-Knowledge and the Soul 25
Ghulām Riḍā FAYĀḌĪ

Substantial Motion and Islamic Theology 35
Georg GASSER
Is Hylomorphism a Neglected Option in
Philosophy of Mind? 43
Hans GOLLER
Are Near-death Experiences Evidence for the
Existence of the Soul? 63
Christian KANZIAN
The Immateriality of the Human Soul— An
argument of Ayatullah Misbah, its roots in Mulla Sadra,
and its correspondence in Western Philosophy 85
Mahmoud KHATAMI
Becoming Transcendent: Remarks on the Human Soul
in the Philosophy of Illumination 97
Hans KRAML
The Soul, Disposition or Substance? 123
Muhammad LEGENHAUSEN
A Muslim’s Spirit 133
Peter MARINKOVIC
Concepts of the Soul in the Bible and
in the Ancient Mediterranean World 157
Muhammad Taqi MIṢBĀḤ YAZDĪ

Two Problems in the Theory of Substantial Motion 175
Mahmoud Namazi ESFAHANI

Gnostic Elements in Mīr Findiriskī’s Theory of
Knowledge and the Body-Soul Relation 187
Josef QUITTERER
How can I Survive? The Concept of the Soul
and the Problem of Diachronic Personal Identity 209
Abbas A. SHAMELI
The Soul-Body Problem in Islamic Philosophical
Psychology 229
Mohammad Ali SHOMALI

The Creation of the Human Soul: An Islamic Perspective 239
Matthias STEFAN
The Simple View of Personal Identity and its
Implications for Substance Dualism 249
Erwin TEGTMEIER
Two Kinds of Ontological Dualism 263
Daniel WEHINGER
On Subjects 277
List of Contributors 296

Preface 7
Preface of the Editors

Christian Kanzian & Muhammad Legenhausen
Our volume investigates the topic “soul” in a comparative way: Isla-

mic and Western traditions are brought into dialogue with the focus
on our general theme. Our project is comparative also because it
brings together several disciplines concerned with “soul”: empirical
psychology, philosophy of mind, epistemology, ontology, and theo-
logy. The history of the treatment of the soul in these disciplines is
represented, as are current debates.
Most of the collected papers in our book are results of contributi-
ons to a workshop organized by one of the editors of the volume,
Professor M. Legenhausen, as an integrated part of a visit of a dele-
gation from the University of Innsbruck and the University of Mu-
nich to the Imam Khomeini Education and Research Institute (IKE-
RI) of Qom in May 2008. The editors are happy to have the welco-
ming remarks from Professor M. Rajabi published in this book.
The organizational frame of the workshop and also of this edi-
tion is the partnership between the IKERI and the University of
Innsbruck in Austria—the first formal high-level academic partner-
ship between an Iranian Institution and a European University.
Our project is motivated by the observation that the roots of
Islamic and of Western Philosophy are very similar. Especially con-
cerning “soul” we can state that our traditions are concerned with
the same questions and problems, and have developed comparable
strategies for solutions.
Some of the articles in this volume are dedicated to the history of
philosophy, in Islamic thinking as well as in Western traditions. M.
Taqi Miṣbāḥ and M. Khatami deal with one of the most important
theories in the modern history of Islamic philosophy and bring it
into the context of our volume: substantial motion. C. Kanzian com-
pares lines of argumentation for the immateriality of the human
soul in Islamic and Christian traditions. Most of the articles are con-
cerned with actual systematic questions in different philosophical
8 Preface
disciplines. A. Javadi Amuli, M. Namazi Esfahani, and M. Eshkevari

discuss epistemic questions and questions concerning intellectual
capacities with reference to our topic. The access of empirical and
philosophical psychology to the soul is the leading question of H.
Goller and A. Shameli. Soul is a topic which has philosophical and
theological implications. G. Rida Fayadi (Substantial Motion and Is-
lamic Theology), P. Marinkovic (“Soul” in the Bible) and M. Shomali
(The creation of the Human Soul) lay stress upon this point. Last
not least, there should be mentioned those articles whose authors
try to focus to reflect critically on new options in the philosophy of
mind and the ontology of the soul: G. Gasser (Hylomorphism as
new option), H. Kraml (The soul as a disposition?), M. Legenhausen
(A Muslim’s Spirit), J. Quitterer (“Soul”, diachronic identity, and
survival), M. Stefan (The simple view of personal identity), E. Tegt-
meier (Ontological Dualism), and D. Wehinger (On Subjects).
Our leading idea is to focus on the common roots and to increase
awareness of the possibilities of systematic philosophical dispute,
with the aim to promote a substantial dialogue on an academic level.
The topic we chose seems to be especially well suited for such a pro-
ject: it has an important history in both traditions, and makes ob-
vious the common roots we share; and it has systematic relevance
for the current debate in philosophical and theological research.
We thank the authorities of the Imam Khomeini Education and Re-
search Institute and the University of Innsbruck, especially Ayatul-
lah Miṣbāḥ Yazdī and Dr. Matthias Schennach, respectively, the
Theological Faculty of Innsbruck University, especially Dean Profes-
sor Jozef Niewiadomski, and the Head of the Institute for Philoso-
phy at the Theological Faculty, Professor Josef Quitterer, and last
not least, our Bishop Dr. Manfred Scheuer for his manifold support
of this volume. Special thanks go to Ontos-Publisher and Dr. Rafael
Hüntelmann for the acceptance of the volume in its program.
May our common efforts help to build bridges between our cul-
tures, and facilitate substantial dialogue via philosophical and theo-
logical analysis.
Christian Kanzian & Muhammad Legenhausen November 2009

Welcoming Remarks:
On the Value of Science in Islam
Maḥmūd Rajabī, Qom
Praise be to Allah, Lord of the worlds, and blessings and benedic-

tions to Muhammad and his progeny the pure, especially the Re-
mainder from Allah on the earth [the Twelfth Imam], may Allah
hasten his noble appearance.
I consider your presence and participation in our conference on the

soul to be most valuable; and I hope that these sessions will be very
beneficial for you and for the professors and researchers of the
Imam Khomeini Education and Research Institute. I also hope that
all the participants will find the sessions to be effective for approa-
ching the truth. God willing, in these scholarly sessions, as in the
past, happy memories will be made about the ways of dialogue and
reflection, and there will be valuable conclusions as fruits of the
discussions. We hope that this will increase your interest and that of
the responsible parties of our institute for continuations of our thin-
king together and cooperation in this area and in other scientific
fields. I pray that in the light of these scholarly discussions, the Lord
will grant you success and fill your hands with the advancement and
progress of knowledge, the publication of truths, and the strength-
ening of the faith of the people of the world. Sincere dialogues and
conferences in scholarly areas have many great effects and blessings.
It is for this reason that scholarly discussions are held to be of great
worth by the heavenly religions, especially in the religion of Islam
and the Shi‘ite denomination.
Attention to these effects and blessings is beneficial for under-
standing the greatness of these sorts of efforts at thinking together
and for increasing motivation in this regard. In these brief remarks I
will confine myself to mentioning some of these effects and benefits.
At the end, I will indicate to some methodological points and cus-
10 Maḥmūd Rajabī
toms of scholarly conversations that contribute to making them

more fruitful.
1. The first effect of this sort of scholarly discussion is recognition

of delicate points, faults, ambiguities, and flaws in theories and
views. The presentation of theories and views among research-
ers and scholars who have different basic ideas and various
intellectual backgrounds provides for reflection and considera-
tion of problems from a multidimensional perspective. This
sort of view illuminates the strong and weak points, the clear
and obscure aspects, the positive and negative results and im-
plications of the problems under review, and helps to achieve
clarification and strength of the theories developed. Imam ‘Ali,
peace be with him, in advice to his own son, Muḥammad
Ḥanafiyyah, said, “Whoever welcomes different views, will
know the occasions of error” (Ḥurr al-‘Amilī, Wasā’il al-Shī‘ah,
II, 262).
2. Another effect of scholarly dialogues is the more precise un-
derstanding of problems, and also the formulation of new que-
stions. Scientific conversations and the investigation into va-
rious angles to be reviewed results in a more exact understan-
ding of the problem in question, the precise formulation of it,
and the discovery of new questions in this area. Both the more
precise formulation of the problem and the new questions are
signs of new knowledge. In the words of Mawlana (Rumi),
“Both questions and answers arise from knowledge.” These
two are the components of the background needed for the flou-
rishing of the sciences. Many of the differences of opinion
about scholarly matters are the result of a lack of precision in
the formulation of the problem, or a lack of familiarity with the
basic problem and the key points of the subject in view. If the
various aspects of the subject are properly recognized, and if
the scientific problem is formulated properly and precisely, the
solution to it will be found quicker and more completely, and
the process of scientific progress will accelerate more quickly
Welcoming Remarks: On the Value of Knowledge in Islam 11
than otherwise. Imam Ḥasan, peace be with him, said, “To

question well is half of knowledge” (Arbalī, Kashf al-Ghum-
mah, I, 571).
3. The third effect of scholarly dialogues is help with the better
and more exact discovery of the truth. The presentation and
review of different views on a given subject and the exchange
of views on it prepares the ground for a better understanding
of the answers to the problems and an approach to the truth.
In addition to the fact that usually the course of research by an
individual is much longer than that which can be achieved in
conference with others in which there is an exchange of views,
in addition the groundwork for the discovery of what is correct
is also prepared. Imam ‘Ali, peace be with him, said, “Exchan-
ge views with one another, and this will give rise to what is
correct” (Tamīmī, Ghurar al-Ḥikam, no. 442). He also said,
“Taking part in discussion produces what is correct” (Ṭabrasī,
Mustadrak al-Wasā’il, XIII, 452).
4. A fourth result of scholarly discussions is the opening up of
new horizons of research. Scholarly discussions among experts
who have various views and areas of specialization, and who
look at issues from different points of view, prepares the
ground for the discovery of new horizons of research. Different
methods of identifying and solving problems, various attitudes
toward an issue, and the perfection and correction of them, as
well as new horizons beyond the issue under investigation are
shown through different springs of thought, such that research
into these new horizons will extend the boundaries of human
knowledge.
5. The fifth result of scholarly discussions is the elevation in qual-
ity and quantity of the knowledge of the scholars. In scholarly
discussions, the participants, in addition to presenting their
own ideas, become aware of information, experience, and the
fruits of the reflections of others on the topics of their own in-
terest. This increases their knowledge. Knowledge of this sort
of scientific information, gives rise to the development of
knowledge and the scientific flourishing and elevation of the

participants, both in itself and as a support for further re-
search. Imam ‘Ali, peace be with him, said, “The most knowl-
edgeable of people is one who gathers the knowledge of the
people to add to his knowledge” (Tamīmī, Ghurar al-Ḥikam,
no. 442).
6. Another result of scholarly discussions is the preparation of
the intellectual and spiritual groundwork for harmony in heart
and language on the way toward scientific cooperation. Famili-
arity with scientific views and religious teachings in the langu-
age of the scholars of each denomination or religion prepares
the ground for the avoidance of error and incorrect prejudge-
ments with respect to one another, and the correction and
completion of previous information in this regard. With the re-
moval of ambiguities the spiritual and intellectual ground is
prepared for further cooperative scholarly work.
7. Another benefit from such scholarly conferences is the reco-
gnition of common scientific goals and the mutual recognition
of the abilities of other researchers that can be employed for
the development of further scholarly cooperation. Each scholar
from a scientific center and the scholars of the various divine
religions enjoy abilities, specialties and experiences particular
to them. A lack of familiarity with these abilities and oppor-
tunities would be a hindrance to the mutual benefits they could
bring. In such conferences, these abilities become highlighted,
and the grounds are prepared for more benefits four our com-
mon purposes.
8. During the present age, the divine religions are in need of one
another more than during any age of the past, for sympathy
and unity and cooperation to guard religious teachings and the
faith of the followers of the religions. Indeed, unity and sympa-
thy on the basis of the truth is a fundamental need of the hu-
man community. One of the fruits of these conferences is the
recognition and emphasis on common intellectual points that
can be a basis of a kind of unity and sympathy among the scho-
lars and followers of the denominations, and a tiding of unity

and harmony in the human community toward divine and spi-
ritual goals.
9. Another of the results of such conferences is the grasping of
needs and priorities in research in the areas of inquiry and in
other areas. In scholarly dialogues, both the needs and priori-
ties in research that are common among the scholars are rec-
ognized and also, through probing and investigating the vari-
ous dimensions of the topic of discussion, other needs and pri-
orities for research are illuminated as foundations and condi-
tions or results and outgrowths of the topic. Following this, so-
me parts of scientific and religious research will find their own
direction.
10. A tenth result of these conferences, which is an indirect result
but is very important, is assistance to the human community
for reaching felicity and salvation. Precise and scientific theo-
ries that are the products of these conferences that pave the
way to the solution of problems, guide people to the truth, and
provide the conditions for faring the way to felicity and truth.
It is not possible to fare the way toward felicity without proper
knowledge of true felicity and the way to reach it. This sort of
knowledge can be a result of such conferences.
The results and benefits mentioned can be attained in a desirable

manner when, in the words of the Noble Qur’ān, the dialogue takes
place in the best way (29:46); and some general points in this re-
gard will be offered below.
A. Dialogues should take place in a tolerant atmosphere with sym-

pathy and sincerity on the basis of mutual respect for the views of
the parties. The employment of insulting expressions and presenta-
tion and criticism of issues in a hateful or angry spirit should be
avoided because such expressions keep one from reaching the truth.
Imam ‘Ali, peace be with him, said, “Anger corrupts reason, and
keeps one from what is right” (Ṭabrasī, Mustadrak al-Wasā’il, II, 11).
B. The goal of dialogue should be the discovery of the truth, the ut-
terance of the truth should be accepted no matter who utters it, and
the utterance of what is false should be cast aside no matter who ut-
ters it. In other words, human lusts, satanic prejudices, and group or
individual interests should not be allowed to interfere with the quest
for truth. Jesus, peace be with him, said, “Take the truth from the
folk of falsehood, but do not take the false from the folk of truth. Be
critics of speech” (Majlisī, Biḥār, 2, 96). Imam Ṣādiq, peace be with
him, said, “What is most correct is what is in opposition to desire”
(Majlisī, Biḥār, 75, 314). Likewise, this Imam, in explanation of vain
debate, which is condemned in the Qur’ān, said, “What is meant by
vain debate is when for the purpose of not accepting what is false
from others, one rejects the truth from them” (Majlisī, Biḥār, 70,
404).
C. In dialogue, emphasis should be on what is common, and the
starting point of movement and the springboard toward the truth
should be accepted by all parties to dialogue, and what is common
should be the basis for solving differences. In the Noble Qur’ān, the
followers of the divine religions are invited to take common points
as a basis, and it says, Say, ‘O People of the Book! Come to a word
common between us and you: that we will worship no one but Allah,
and that we will not ascribe any partner to Him (3:64). When con-
versing with the followers of the heavenly books, Muslims are also
ordered to use the best method to emphasize common points. Do
not dispute with the People of the Book except in a manner which is
best, barring such of them as are wrongdoers, and say, ‘We believe
in that which has been sent down to us and has been sent down to
you; our God and your God is one, and to Him do we submit.
(29:46).
D. Emphasis should be on matters that are reliable and certain, and
relying on matters that are speculative and tentative should be
avoided. What is certain should be taken as a standard for judging
what is speculative and tentative. The Qur’ān (18:46; 22:8; 31:20)
repeatedly condemns those who speak in dialogue without aware-
ness or scientific reasons or on the basis of desires or following the

devil, and who dispute about God and religious teachings.
E. In order for scholarly dialogues to include the presentation and
review of various opinions and views, and since everyone intends to
explain their own views and review those of others, it is very impor-
tant to have sound management of discussions, final summation of
them, orientation of conversations toward coming to conclusions
and the discovery of the truth, and the avoidance of disorder and the
confusing of views, otherwise, with the confusion of views and criti-
cisms without any correct orientation, the truth will be missed, and
a clear answer to the problem will not be achieved. Imam Ṣādiq,
peace be with him, said, “When answers are confused, what is cor-
rect remains hidden” (Majlisī, Biḥār, 2, 60).
In conclusion, I will return to what I indicated at the beginning, and

that is the high position and status of scholarly discussions from a
religious perspective, especially in Islam. In this regard, I will bring
my discussion to a close with the narration of a valuable report from
the dear Prophet of Islam, peace and blessings upon him and his
progeny, regarding the status of scholarly dialogue from a religious
perspective. The differences in the rewards mentioned in this nar-
ration for scholarly discussions and for attendance in them is due to
the differences in such discussions with regard to the subjects under
review, the motivations of the participants, the manner of dialogue,
and their conclusions. Abu Dharr, one of the his special companions
reports that the Apostle of Allah said, “Attending sessions in which
there is an hour of scholarly discussion is more favored than a thou-
sand nights in which there are one thousand bowings performed in
each night; and the sessions in which scholarly discussion is more
favored by Allah than a thousand expeditions led by the Prophet
himself, or the recitation of the entire Qur’ān.” Then the Apostle of
Allah said, “Is an hour of scholarly discussion better than the recita-
tion of the entire Qur’ān?” The Apostle of Allah said, “O Abu Dharr!
An hour of scholarly discussion is better than the recitation of the
entire Qur’ān twelve thousand times. O Abu Dharr! Attending ses-
sions of scholarly discussions is better for you than the worship of a

year in which one fasts during the days and holds vigils during the
nights” (Majlisī, Biḥār, 1, 198).
References
Arbalī, ‘Alī ibn ‘Īsā (1364/1985) Kashf al-Ghummah, Qom: Adab al-
Ḥawzah.
Ḥurr al-‘Āmilī, Muhammad ibn Ḥasan (1409/1988) Wasā’il al-
Shī‘ah, Qom: Mu’assassah Āl al-Bayt li-Iḥyā’ al-Turāth.
Majlisī, Muḥammad Bāqir (1403/1983) Biḥār al-Anwār, Beirut: Dār
Iḥyā al-Turāth al-‘Arabī.
Ṭabrasī, Mīrzā Ḥusayn al-Nūrī (1408/1987) Mustadrak al-Wasā’il,
Beirut: Mu’assassah Āl al-Bayt li-iḥyā’ al-turāth.
Tamīmī, ‘Abd al-Wāḥid al-Āmidī (1407/1987) al- Ghurar al-Ḥikam,
Beirut: Mu’assassah al-a’lamī li-l maṭbū’āt.
Knowledge of the Soul as Path
‘Abdullah Javadi Amuli, Qom
1. Introduction
In the Name of Allah, the Merciful, the Compassionate.

The knowledge of the soul (ma‘rifat al-nafs) is the most impor-
tant, or one of the most important, discussions in philosophy and
theology.
The discussion of the knowledge of the soul requires several
principles. By now, the difficulties pertaining to these principles
should be familiar. The main issue to be addressed is that of sub-
stantial motion and how this doctrine is used to explain the relation
between body and soul. Historical issues related to the doctrine of
substantial motion and its development after Mulla Sadra are se-
condary. So, fasten your seat belts! Here we go!
One of the most prominent of our religious teachings is that man
may come close to God. The prophets, especially the Apostles of
God, such as the blessed Messiah, peace be with him, and the bles-
sed Seal of the Prophets, peace be with him, have come close to God.
To come close to God, one must follow the path of perfection, which
is called “the straight path” in the religious language of Islam.
The philosophical way is a way that is the same as the wayfarer.
Sometimes one goes on a journey over land, and for this one must
fasten one’s seat belt for the land journey. Sometimes one goes on a
heavenly journey, and this requires that one fasten one’s heavenly
seat belt. Sometimes, one travels on an inward journey, in which the
traveler is identical to the path traveled. For this one must fasten the
seat belt of the soul.
If Mulla Sadra, may God have mercy on him, was successful in
his efforts on the path, it is because he knew this path and followed
it. A substantial transformation occurred within him. First, he un-
derwent substantial motion, afterwards he understood what sub-
stantial motion is. First, he found his own corporeal origination and
18 ‘Abdullah Javadi Amuli
spiritual survival (jismāniyyah al-ḥudūth wa rūḥāniyyah al-baqā’),

and only then did he communicate it to others. We have to recognize
this path, first, and then, secondly, we must follow it. Once it has be-
come clear that there is a path between us and God, but not in time
or over the earth, and when it becomes clear that this path and the
one who travels it are one, and when it becomes clear that one must
seek this path within the soul, we are left with ourselves and our in-
ner search. Let us see what there is within ourselves that can be the
path, and what there is that can mislead us on this path.
2. Finding the Path Within
When we review the domain of the soul, to see what path there is be-
tween us and God, we see that in the domain of the soul there are a
series of conventional expressions (anāwīn-e i‘tibārī) that have ap-
plication in the literary sciences: we call one thing by a certain word,
and apply another word to something else. This depends upon con-
ventions and does not have any share in reality. These do not con-
stitute the way. There is a series of concepts that are called second-
dary logical intelligibles. They remain in the circuit of the soul and
have no share in reality. They are not the way. There is also a series
of secondary philosophical intelligibles that are in the domain of the
soul, and that do not go any further than the soul. These, also,
cannot constitute the path between us and God. There is another set
of primary intelligibles, that are called the substantial and accidental
quiddities, but since they are also subjective, they also have no share
in reality. They also do not constitute the way from us to God. The
only truth (ḥaqīqat) between us and God is being. God is at a high
degree of being and we are at a low degree of being. We have to
cross over this being so that we can approach Him. If the puzzle of
how to make this passage can be solved, the difficulty of understan-
ding substantial motion will be solved, corporeal origination and
spiritual survival (jismāniyyah al-ḥudūth wa rūḥāniyyah al-baqā’)
will be solved, the approach to God will be solved, the understan-
ding of religion will be solved, and the fruits of philosophical effort

will also be made clear.
3. The Fundamentality of Existence
If what has reality in the world are quiddities or whatnesses, such as

the genus tree or treeness and stoneness, and if they had existence,
there would be no way for there to be substantial motion, and there
would be no way for there to be corporeal origination and spiritual
survival (jismāniyyah al-ḥudūth wa rūḥāniyyah al-baqā’), and there
would be no way to approach God—no philosophical way, and no re-
ligious way—because between us and our God there would be a se-
ries of discrete quiddities that provide the realities of things and
constitute reality; but these quiddities are separate from things.
From one separate and distinct thing to another, there is no path—
neither substantial motion would be possible so that one could find
a way from one separate thing to another, and there would be no
way for there to be corporeal origination and spiritual survival
(jismāniyyah al-ḥudūth wa rūḥāniyyah al-baqā’), because the one
would be separate from the other, and it would be impossible to ap-
proach God.
When a person recites the Qur’ān, it is customary to encourage
him by saying, “Read and ascend!” or, “There are many degrees. Try
to approach near to God!” From this it is evident that He is at the
peak of reality. Between us, who are in the foothills of that peak, and
the summit there is a path that is not separate, and that may be fol-
lowed. This way must be existence, not quiddity. It must be gradual,
not discrete; it must be continuous, not broken.
When Mulla Sadra realized the truth that what is fundamental to
reality is existence and not quiddity, then either simultaneously or
subsequent to that he also reached the two subsidiary principles of
substantial motion and corporeal origination and spiritual survival
(jismāniyyah al-ḥudūth wa rūḥāniyyah al-baqā’). Why? Because for
him it had been proven that what has reality in the world is exi-
stence, and existence is not separate, and it is not the case, as some
say, that substances are discrete, that they are separate; rather, exi-
stents constitute a vast truth or reality (ḥaqīqat) that has a base,
middle and summit. If they are one truth, and if this truth is
directed under a higher leadership, and if they are all emanations
from the All-emanating, the Bestower of all grace, and if the descen-
ding of emanation from above is possible, then the return ascension
from below of what was emanated is also possible.
4. The Two Arcs
With the witnessing of this truth, Mulla Sadra also understood that
there is a path, that the path is the same as the one who travels it,
and that the traveler himself constructs time. Since time is in the
control of the traveler, sometimes he reaches the point that this time
becomes like his garment or clothing, so that he can remove it and
become atemporal. Since it is so, there is a path, part of which is
temporal and part of which is spatial and has a location. Since the
path is gradual, some of it is without time or place, and time and
place are the construction of the one who moves himself. Time and
place are like the traveler’s clothing. He removes the clothing and
reaches a place that has no time or location. After that he becomes
immaterial. We find what is meant here in our own souls. This is not
something to be demonstrated. To a certain extent it is a matter of
intuition (wijdānī), and with this intuition the intensity of the diffi-
culty of the topic is somewhat attenuated. When the difficulty is les-
sened, the faculty of one’s fancies (wahm) that raises objections is
calmed; then reason has the opportunity for analysis, and finds the
cause. The explanation is that we find the cycle of ascension and de-
clination within ourselves, that is, we find that there is something
that is material, it then appears to be half-immaterial, and finally is
found to be immaterial. Also, there is something that is completely
immaterial that becomes half-immaterial and finally material. When
we find these two arcs of ascent and descent within ourselves every
day, not at the level of demonstration, but rather exemplified in our
own inner lives, then God willing, if we take into consideration the
examples that we have mentioned, the intensity of the difficulty will

gradually be decreased.
With regard to these two arcs or courses, sometimes we under-
stand a deep issue of philosophy, and we consider how to help some-
one understand this matter, and we formulate the problem with re-
gard to the sort of language it would be appropriate to use. Shall we
use an introduction and two chapters and reach a conclusion? The
deep intellectual issue of philosophy that has no language is thus
brought down and is formulated in the imagination. For example,
we may decide to express the matter in Farsi, or Arabic. Then, when
we have formulated the matter in language by saying it, or with the
pen by writing it down, we explain the matter to our audience by
speaking or writing. Thus, the topic becomes something communi-
cated through what is material, and we say, “I said the same thing to
you that I understood.” This “sameness” is a kind of disclosure
(tajallī), not conveyance (tajāfī). Conveyance occurs when the very
thing that was above comes down. When it is above, it is not below,
and when it is below it is not above—like a drop of rain. A drop of
rain falls from above, is not below when it is above, and it is not abo-
ve when it is below. This is called conveyance. On the other hand,
there is something that at the same time that it is above, without
coming down, its place of descent is manifested in an intermediate
state, and then in a lower state, so that its lowest stage is in a stage
even lower than the intermediate state. This is called disclosure
(tajallī), whereby something may be above, in the middle, and be-
low, all at the same time is above. We say that the very same thing
that we understood is what we told you.
Although there is a huge difference between the example given
and what it is intended to indicate, it is only through examples that
we can approach this matter, so that the mind can gain some di-
stance from its fright and calm down—so that one can say what he
wants to say. Another example is that what we hear from a teacher,
or the pattern we see in a book, are material things, either a sound
wave that reaches the ear or a picture that reaches the eye. These are
material things, and according to the conventions regarding words
and meanings, first, the words that are heard or read come into our
minds in these same forms. Second, the relation between the words
and their meanings appear at the level of imagination. Third, the
soul of the person addressed, if he has the power of analysis, sets
aside the words, and gets to the depths of their meaning. Then he
says, “I understood the same philosophical point that the teacher ex-
plained.” At this level, there is no Arabic or Farsi.
So, we have these two arcs: sometimes from above to below, and
sometimes from below to above. If there is no path, neither descent
nor ascent is possible. If concepts, expressions, or quiddities were
fundamental, there would be no path. If existence were fundamental
but discrete, there would also be no path. However, existence is fun-
damental, and it is gradual and has degrees. We are constantly going
up and down in this inner elevator.
What has reality in the world is being, and being is a gradual
reality (ḥaqīqat) that is continuous and ordered by dependence. It is
not cut, dispersed or scattered. The grace of this being, in religious
terms, is that God has told us that He has sent down this religion
and way just as a rope is sent down. He has hung down the rope; He
has not thrown it down. God sent down rain, that is, He threw it
down. He sent down the Qur’ān, that is, He has hung it down. When
the Qur’ān was thus suspended, one end of it is in God’s hand and
one end of it is in our hands. Between us and God there is this way.
If quiddity were fundamental, then this rope would not be. If con-
cepts and terms were fundamental, again, there would be no rope. If
existence is fundamental but reality was discrete, again, there would
be no rope. Since existence is fundamental and reality is a matter of
degree, there is a rope that God has hung down, not thrown down. If
so, the sending down of grace from above to below is made possible,
and also going from below to above by the grace of God is also
possible. Likewise, what Mulla Sadra said was according the abilities
of his students in that age. Otherwise, he should have said that man
is corporeal in origin, spiritual in survival, intellectual in survival,
and higher and higher… until it is no longer permitted.
Because the discussion here is about reality, what we have said and
heard are a series of words and concepts that do not have the ability
to communicate to us self-knowledge, the substantial journey of the

self, the fact that the self is corporeal in origin and spiritual in
survival, and loftier knowledge. Why? Because these are concepts
but those are reality. Concepts cannot play the role of realities. So,
many problems remain unsolved. Rumi says that love cannot be ex-
plained by reason. Why? Because love is a reality in the external
world, while reason is a series of acquired sciences and concepts.
The flaw of perception is this state and speech,

Washing blood with blood is impossible, impossible
(Mathnavi, Bk. III, 4727).
This means that if something has been stained with blood, you will
have to wash it with water, not with more blood. These concepts that
we have presented here are theoretical concepts and are compli-
cated. What does corporeal in origin and spiritual in survival mean?
What does substantial motion mean? How can matter become im-
material? These are concepts, and concepts are blood, and they can-
not be washed with more concepts. These difficulties have to be sol-
ved by means of the instances [of these concepts] in the external
world. The things in the external world are water, while the concepts
are blood. This blood must be dissolved with that water, not by more
blood. We are trying to solve a series of theoretical concepts by using
a series of self-evident concepts. It is as though we were trying to use
some light blood to wash away some dark blood. It cannot be done.
The flaw of perception is this state and speech,

Washing blood with blood is impossible, impossible.
However, a thirst can be produced in a person so that the person

will be motivated to travel the path that others have taken.
I will not take any more time. What has been said is a drop from
the sea of Christ, and it is also like a dew drop, which is also a trace
of the sea. If you become familiar with this teaching, these problems
will gradually be solved for you, one after the other, God willing.
Self-Knowledge and the Soul
Mohammad Fanaei Eshkevari, Qom
1. Introduction
Self-awareness or direct knowledge of the soul is a mode of know-

ledge that is called knowledge by presence in Islamic Philosophy.
Reflection on this type of knowledge is considered a key in solving
many crucial philosophical questions including questions related to
epistemology and philosophy of mind. In this brief article after lay-
ing down some preliminary discussions about this type of knowled-
ge, a number of key metaphysical questions regarding the nature of
the soul and its existential position are examined.
2. Knowledge and the Soul
The human soul has been one of the most serious subjects of philo-
sophical reflection throughout the intellectual history of mankind.
Many questions have been raised about this subject. Some of these
questions are as follows: Do human beings, besides their bodies,
have souls? Is the human soul a substance or does it only stand for
some accidents of the body? If the human soul is a substance, is it a
material substance or an immaterial one? Does the human soul exist
prior to its body or does it come into existence after the formation of
the body? What is the relation between the body and the soul? What
happens to the human soul after death? Is it immortal?
Another series of challenging philosophical questions relates to
human knowledge. Is knowledge possible? Is certainty attainable?
Do we have a priori knowledge? What is the criterion for self-evi-
dent truths?
Islamic philosophy suggests that self-awareness is a key in ans-
wering questions related to both the soul and knowledge. Here, I try
only to state the main ideas without going into details.
26 Mohammad Fanaei Eshkevari
3. Self-Awareness
First, we need to ask what self-awareness is. Do we know ourselves?

What is the nature of this knowledge? The most fundamental prin-
ciple is that we know ourselves. This awareness is prior to any kind
of thinking or doubt, such as is found at the starting point in the
philosophy of Descartes. Thinking and doubt are acts of mind that
sometimes occur to one. We can imagine a period of time in which
we do not think or doubt about anything. Before thinking about or
doubting anything—even with regard to ourselves—we are aware of
ourselves. This awareness is not an action or a reaction that some-
times occurs in our minds; rather, it is identical with our very exi-
stence. Even in dreamless sleep and drunkenness this awareness is
present. This awareness is prior to any intentional act and is its ne-
cessary condition.
Self-awareness is independent of any external senses. We do not
perceive ourselves through our external senses. This awareness is
not through any concept, image or any mental act; rather it is direct
and immediate. It is a non-propositional and pre-epistemic aware-
ness.
Sohravardi (1945, 70) described a mystical trance in which the
reality of knowledge was disclosed for him, and he realized that self-
awareness is our primary knowledge, a knowledge without any me-
diation. For any mediation is “he” not “I.” “I” is different from “he”,
for the subject is different from the object. If I know myself through
an image or concept, that will not be “I”; rather it will be “he.” The
image is the object of knowledge, not the subject. The subject or “I”
is the one who knows through the image; therefore, the knower is
different from the image that is a mediator in knowledge.
The real I is the performative I, while the I that is the object in
this consideration is passive; therefore, it is something other than
the subject I.
Self-awareness is a permanent attribute of the soul; it is always
with us; whereas sensory and conceptual sorts of knowledge are not
so. Sensory knowledge depends on our senses, just as conceptual
knowledge depends on our intention and attention, and in both ca-
ses external factors are effective. However, self-awareness does not

depend on any external factors.
In self-awareness the possessor of knowledge, knowledge, and
the known are all one and the same. The subject-object distinction is
not applicable to this knowledge, whereas in sensory and conceptual
knowledge they are different.
Since self-knowledge does not involve any multiplicity, the que-
stion of correspondence or conformity is irrelevant in this knowled-
ge. Correspondence is a relation between what is in our mind and
what is in reality; however, this duality is not applicable to self-
knowledge; based on this, this type of knowledge is errorless.
4. Two Types of Knowledge
Upon discovering self-awareness, we reach a reliable starting point

in epistemology: an immediate, indubitable, necessary knowledge
that can be a foundation for the formation of human knowledge. In
Islamic philosophy this type of knowledge is called knowledge by
presence (ilm al-ḥuḍūrī). In this knowledge the object itself is pre-
sent for the knower, not its mental representation. Knowledge that
we acquire through mental representation, i.e. images and concepts,
is called knowledge by correspondence (‘ilm al-huṣūlī) (Ha’iri Yazdi
1992, ch. 3).
Knowledge by correspondence involves mediation, therefore the
real object of knowledge is absent from our mind. For instance,
when we perceive a tree, what we have in our mind is the image of
the tree, not the real tree. It is about this type of knowledge that the
question of true/false and correspondence is raised. If the mediator
indicates the reality as it is, it will be true; otherwise it will be false.
This type of knowledge is, therefore, susceptible to doubt and que-
stion. All kinds of mental activities such as thinking and logical cate-
gories such as definition, analysis, demonstration etc. belong to the
domain of knowledge by correspondence.
4.1. Types of Knowledge by Presence

Self-awareness is one kind of knowledge by presence. Any intelligent
being, such as God and human beings, know themselves immedia-
tely. The criterion for this type of knowledge is unity or identity. Sin-
ce there is no subject-object distinction and subject and object are
identical in this type of knowledge, one is aware of him/herself im-
mediately.
The second type of knowledge by presence is one’s awareness of
his/her inner states. Our awareness of our mental images and
concepts belongs to this type of knowledge. We know external things
through their images or concepts; however, our knowledge of these
images and concepts is a direct knowledge, for if we know these
images and concepts through other images and concepts, it leads to
infinite regress. Therefore, they are present in our minds and we
know them without any mediation.
Though our knowledge of external realities belong to knowledge
by correspondence, our knowledge of our mental images and con-
cepts is through knowledge by presence. In this view, any corres-
ponding knowledge will ultimately depend on knowledge by presen-
ce. In other words, all mediatory knowledge depends on some im-
mediate knowledge.
Our awareness of our mental states and emotions—such as
sadness, happiness, love, pain, fear etc—is a type of knowledge by
presence. The very existence of these states is identical with aware-
ness. It is impossible to suffer from a pain without being aware of
that pain. Pain and feeling pain are identical.
The knowledge that an efficient cause has of its effect also be-
longs to this category of knowledge. The criterion for this knowledge
is not identity of subject and object, for neither soul nor mind is
identical with its states; the criterion is the sustaining attribute of
the cause with regard to the effect (al-qayyūmiyyah). The states of
soul belong to the soul and depend on the soul; that is why the soul
is aware of them. God’s knowledge of creatures is of this type of
knowledge by presence. He knows Himself; and whatever is caused
by Him is present for Him.
The third type of knowledge by presence is the knowledge that

an effect has of its efficient cause. In Islamic mysticism it is said that
in the state of fanā’ (annihilation) a mystic’s awareness of God is of
knowledge by presence. The criterion for this knowledge is the an-
nihilation of the mystic in God (Ha’iri Yazdi 1381/2002, 20). He/she
discovers that his/her reality is the very dependence on God. A my-
stic’s self-awareness includes his awareness of God (see Fanaei
Eshkevari 1375/1996, ch. 3).
By analyzing the nature of knowledge by presence, contemporary
Muslim philosophers try to deal with fundamental questions in epi-
stemology. On this basis they argue for the possibility of valid know-
ledge and the existence of self-evident truths and reject absolute
skepticism and relativism; and upon this solid base they deal with
other philosophical questions.
5. The Soul
One of the branches of philosophy that is closely related to know-

ledge by presence is philosophical psychology (‘ilm al-nafs). The first
question in this regard is about the existence of the soul/self. Ac-
cording to Islamic philosophy, there is no doubt about the existence
of self, for it is known immediately through one’s self-awareness.
The self is present in self-awareness as both subject and object of
knowledge. Awareness is the very reality of one’s self, so one cannot
deny or doubt it.
Ibn Sina tries to explain this concept in a hypothetical experi-
ence. In his view a human being is aware of himself in all states of
mind. He says that if we imagine a person at the beginning of his
creation, who is healthy, having no memory of anything, situated in
an empty and moderate space, having no thinking or feeling any-
thing, even his own body—nonetheless such a person is not unaware
of himself (see Ibn Sina al-Ishārāt wa al-Tanbīhāt, vol. 2, 292)
Thus self-awareness is not an acquired knowledge and does not
depend on any process of sense perception or rational thinking. The
function of thinking as a logical activity is posterior to self-aware-
ness. Therefore our awareness of ourselves is prior to Cartesian

cogito. Knowledge that follows thinking is knowledge by correspon-
dence. From this analysis Ibn Sina concludes that human soul exists
and it is not the same as the body.
5.1. The Substantiality of the Soul

The second fundamental question about human soul is whether the
soul is a substance or only a grope of accidents. When we reflect on
self-awareness, we find that the soul must be a substance. In my
self-awareness I do not find myself as a state or an accident to some-
thing else; rather I find myself as an independent being that has its
own states and accidents. I see my mental images, memories, happi-
ness, sadness etc. in relation to myself and then I say “I am happy”
for instance.
David Hume argues that self or “I” is not a substance, it is only
the stream of consciousness. He thinks that it is impossible to per-
ceive the soul itself without any content. Our minds construct the
concept of self only on the basis of our mental contents. He writes:
[…] when I enter most intimately into what I call myself, I always
stumble on some particular perception or other, of heat or cold, light
or shade, love or hatred, pain or pleasure […]. [We] are nothing but a
bundle or collection of different perceptions, which succeed each other
with an inconceivable rapidity, and are in a perpetual flux and
movement […].
They are the successive perceptions only, that constitute the mind
(Hume, A Treatise Of Human Nature, Book 1, Part IV, Sect. VI, 252-
253).
The problem with Hume’s account of the soul/self is that if we deny

the soul as a substance, then either we have to say that all these
mental accidents are themselves substances, or they are accidents to
the body, or they are accidents without a substance. According to Is-
lamic philosophy, all these assumptions are absurd. If we take them
as different substances, then we cannot relate them to one person,
while there is no doubt that they are different states of one person;
we are talking about the mental state of a single person. They cannot
be accidents without any substance because the existence of an acci-

dent without a substance is impossible by definition. They cannot be
accidents or attributes of body, because according to Islamic philo-
sophy body, i.e. a corporeal being, cannot have such immaterial qua-
lities as knowledge.
Moreover, if there is no soul as a substance, then how could the-
se multiple states of mind constitute the personal identity of a per-
son? Mental phenomena have a transitory nature: they come and go.
If we do not assume a solid substance, there will be no way to justify
personal identity, whereas every individual is aware of his/her own
single identity since his/her childhood. This awareness itself rejects
the Humean account of personal identity.
Furthermore, Hume’s analysis of self as a myth is in opposition
to what each individual finds by reflection on his/her self-aware-
ness. Upon this reflection one finds that his/her soul is different
from his/her mental states; that it is a substance for its accidents,
and that each individual has his/her own particular soul.
If Hume means that the concept or image of the self is not a sub-
stance, or rather it is a construction of the mind, he is right; the con-
cept or image of the self is not a substance; the mental representa-
tion of I is not I, but this does not mean that there is no real self or I.
The real I is the subject I who is aware of himself without distinction
between knower, knowledge and the known.
Walter Stace in his analysis of mystical introvertive experience of
unity claims that in this experience the mystic’s soul dissolves into
the cosmic soul and experiences dissolution of individuality. He ar-
gues that if one goes beyond the surface of the soul and removes all
contents of the soul, he/she will reach the pure ego which is identi-
cal with the cosmic ego. In his view, the contents of each soul are the
distinguishing factors of each individual; if we leave them aside
there will be no principle of differentiation and individuality. Thus
he rejects the multiplicity of pure egos. He says:
If A and B have suppressed within themselves all empirical contents

then there is left nothing whatever which can distinguish them and
make them two; and if A and B have thereby reached the mystical
consciousness of their pure ego, then there is nothing to distinguish
them or make them two pure egos […]. Hence the mystic who has
reached what seems at first to be his own private pure ego has in fact
reached the pure ego of the universe, the pure cosmic ego (Stace 1961,
151).
This analysis is not correct according to the Islamic philosophy, for

reflection on self-awareness rejects it. In self-awareness each indivi-
dual is aware of his/her own personal ego which is different from
other egos and the cosmic ego. Individuality in each soul is not due
to its contents; or rather, according to Islamic philosophy the prin-
ciple of individuation and distinction is rooted in existence itself, so
the very existence of each soul is what makes itself a distinct reality.
Moreover, if we say that there is only one ego, then how can a single
ego be the subject of innumerable opposite accidents? Mystics’ ex-
perience of unity can be interpreted in various ways. One of the ex-
planations is that the experience of the transcendent unity of being
does not totally reject multiplicity; rather it puts multiplicity under
the umbrella of unity and takes the view of multiplicity in unity.
5.2. The Immateriality of the Soul

The next question about the soul is: what kind of substance is the
soul? Materialists think that mind is a material substance. What we
relate to the soul is in fact related to the body. The human body,
through the brain and nervous system, has all the functions that we
relate to the soul. Muslim philosophers, on the other hand, argue
that the soul is an immaterial substance. One of the ways by which
they try to explain immateriality is through paying attention to self-
awareness. As I have already stated, Ibn Sina says that in the state of
self-awareness we are aware of ourselves, but we are not aware of
our body and its organs. Therefore, the soul is not the same as the
body; rather it must be a non-corporeal reality. Muslim philoso-
phers argue for the immateriality of the soul in a number of other
ways. I prefer to provide a short description of them as follows:
5.2.1. The Argument from Knowledge. A material being is not in-

telligent. A corporeal being has extension and occupies space. Each
dimension in a physical entity is absent in relation to its other di-

mensions. For example, the right side of a stone is in a place
different from where its left side is located, so they are absent from
each other. In other words, since knowledge is simple and not divi-
sible, its container must be simple and indivisible; however any phy-
sical being is divisable; therefore, the soul cannot be a physical
being. Since in the world of immaterial things there is no obstacle to
knowledge, this world is the sphere of presence. Therefore, Muslim
philosophers argue that all that is intelligent is immaterial, and all
that which is immaterial is intelligent (kullu ‘āqilīn mujarrad wa
kullu mujarradīn ‘āqil).
5.2.2. The Argument from Universals. Universals are concepts that

are true of infinite particulars whether the particulars exist in reality
or not, such as the concept of horse and sun. A material being
cannot correspond to other than itself; therefore, these concepts are
immaterial, and consequently the soul which perceives and contains
them must be immaterial. This argument is valid both according to
Aristotelian and Platonic accounts of universals (see Mulla Sadra al-
Asfar, vol. 8, part 6, ch. 1).
5.3. The Immortality of the Soul

Perhaps it is difficult to argue for the immortality of the soul directly
from self-awareness. Even though mystics claim that they experi-
ence the immortality of the soul, this experience goes beyond mere
self-awareness. However, after establishing the immateriality of the
soul it can be used as a medium to prove the immortality of the soul.
Muslim philosophers hold that since immaterial beings are simple,
they are eternal.
6. Conclusion
As stated earlier, for Muslim philosophers self-awareness is a key in

solving fundamental questions both in epistemology and philoso-
phical psychology. Not only is the analzsis of the soul and its various
aspects and states are analyzed on the basis of knowledge by pre-

sence, but also the treatment of the reality of being and its funda-
mental principles arise through reflection on self-knowledge, as we
see in the philosophy of Mulla Sadra. In Islamic mysticism, too, the
importance of self-knowledge is highly appreciated, so that self-
knowledge is considered the key to all kinds of knowledge. Above all,
self-knowledge is the gateway to our knowledge of God, as Imam ‘Ali
said: “He who knows himself knows his Lord.”
References
Fanaei Eshkevari, M. (1375/1996) ‘Ilm-e Huḍurī (Knowledge by

Presence), Qom: The Imam Khomeini Education and Research
Institute.
Ha’iri Yazdi, M. (1381/2002) Safar-e Nafs, Tehran: Naqsh-e Jahan.
Ha’iri Yazdi, M. (1992) The Principles of Epistemology in Islamic
Philosophy: Knowledge by Presence, Albany: SUNY.
Ibn Sina (1338/1959) Al-Ishārāt wa al-Tanbīhāt, with the commen-
tary of Naṣīr al-Dīn Ṭūsī, Tehran: Haydarī.
Hume, D. (1978) A Treatise of Human Nature, Oxford: Oxford Uni-
versity Press.
Mulla Sadra (1981) Al-Asfār, Beirut: Dār Ihyā’ al-Turāth al-‘Arabī.
Stace, W. T. (1961) Mysticism and Philosophy, London: Macmillan.
Sohravardi, Shihab al-Din (1945) Majmu‘aye Muṣannafāt Vol. I,
Istanbul: Matbasi.
Substantial Motion and Islamic Theology
Ghulām Riḍā Fayāḍī, Qom
In the Name of Allah, and praise be to Allah, and salutations to the

Apostle Muhammad and to his family, the pure ones, and may Allah
curse his enemies, all of them. Allah, the Blessed and Exalted, said,
So give good news to My servants who listen to the word and follow
the best of it (39:18). I would like to present here what I myself be-
lieve, after having worked on Islamic philosophy for years, and ha-
ving the feeling that I have evaluated the positions that have been
taken. My beliefs about the soul are based on the Qur’ān and hadith
narrated by the Ahl al-Bayt (the family of the Prophet).
As an introduction, “life” is used with two meanings. One mea-
ning is used in the natural sciences, and that is for what has the fea-
tures of taking nourishment, growing, and reproducing. The second
meaning is used in metaphysics and theology. “Life” in this sense
has the features of consciousness, power and freedom. The spirit is
what forms the reality (haqīqat) of man. In truth, man is not compo-
sed of two things, spirit and body; rather the complete reality of man
is spirit, which has divine life, in the metaphysical sense. As we
mentioned, the marks or features of this life are consciousness, po-
wer and freedom. Although the body also has life, this is its own life,
a natural life, that is, the same life that plants also have. Its marks or
features are taking nourishment, growing, and reproducing. The bo-
dy is like a mount that man rides, that is, that is under the control of
the spirit for a period in order for it to travel to the destination that
it chooses. As I said, the body is not a part of man. It is an instru-
ment and a vehicle for traveling and advancing.
God, the Exalted, created the spirits prior to the bodies, even pri-
or to any other beings. The first creatures of God, the Exalted, were
the spirits of people, with the differences that they have, for the
souls of people are not individuals of one kind and do not have a
single reality. God, the Exalted, who knew from eternity what path
every spirit would choose, and at what destination it would aim,
when it comes into the world, created the spirit that would be
36 Ghulām Riḍā Fayāḍī
appropriate to that choice and He gives it powers that are more

inclined toward what the spirit chooses, although all human beings
have fundamental inclinations in common.
All of the inclinations that animals have also exist in the human
spirit, such as the desire for children, food, dominance over others,
egoism, and other tendencies. In addition to what is common bet-
ween humans and animals, there are also transcendental inclina-
tions that are specific to humans, such as altruism, self-sacrifice,
and the like.
With all the differences among them, when they come into the
world, all the spirits, even if they have a strong desire for something,
since they are free, they can still chose other than that, although
normally they do not. I will give an example. Although we all walk
with two feet, we are able to walk on our hands and feet. Normally,
however, we do not crawl.
Just as spirits have differences from the beginnings of their
creation, bodies also have differences from the beginnings of their
creation. God, the Exalted, creates every body in a manner appro-
priate for the spirit to which it is to be attached. Someone who is to
do good works will be from the offspring of Abel and of the good
progeny of Adam. Someone who is to do evil works will be from the
offspring of Cain, and so on according to various conditions. One
person, his or her father, mother, and grandparents of their own
free will never go in the direction of corruption, while another
person, his or her parents and grandparents of their own free will
never stop thinking of anything but doing corruption.
The determining factor for all of these factors of the environment
and of one’s heritage is the decision that one makes later; and God,
the Exalted, with His pre-eternal knowledge, knows that decision.
It is comparable to the situation in which a factory produces
vehicles of various types, cars, trucks and busses, and trucks that
can carry five, ten or twenty tons, with different amounts of power.
All of these vehicles are produced in one factory. However, the fac-
tory must first produce various motors. One motor is not approp-
riate for all the vehicles. For different bodies, different sorts of chas-
sis are built. Since each body is appropriate for a given type of mo-
tor, they place that motor in the appropriate body.
Perhaps one may think that this would lead to a deterministic
view. God has foreknowledge of everything we will do, so it might
seem that human freedom is thereby denied. This is a problem who-
se duration has been as long as that of all philosophy. The answer is
that we witness within ourselves by intuition that we are free. All
humans are free; as is said in the Mathnavī of Rumi:
This [thinking]—Should I do this or should I do that?

Is [sufficient] reason for freedom of choice (ikhtiyār), O idol!
(Mathnavī, Bk. V, 3024)
Each individual thinks for himself whether he or she is going to do

an action or not. One hesitates, and then finally decides. This is
something we intuit. Every person feels this freedom within. On the
other hand, it is very clear that if something is to have an effect on
someone, it would have to be by way of the person him or herself,
the person’s own desires, knowledge and wants. What is outside of
me will have a different existence than my existence. Another per-
son’s knowledge cannot have any effect on me. It is like a teacher
who knows that an industrious and talented student will receive ho-
nors by the end of the term, although this knowledge of the teacher
has no effect on the student receiving honors. In the same way, the
teacher’s knowledge that the lazy student will fail at the end of the
term does not have any effect on the actions or freedom of the lazy
student.
Of course, there are many differences between this case and the
case of divine foreknowledge. One might object that in the case of
the teacher, the same lessons are given to all the students, the same
books and other materials; while in the case of God, different oppor-
tunities are given to different people. My point is only that fore-
knowledge does not have any effect on the question of the freedom
of the foreseen action. God knows in advance what people will
choose of their own volition and He supplies them with appropriate
opportunities accordingly. The different bodies and souls that are
given to people by God are given to them in view of His foreknow-

ledge of what they will freely choose. God gives a person a body and
soul appropriate to their choices without impinging on their free-
dom of choice. The evil person retains the ability to perform excel-
lent actions and an excellent person, such as Imam ‘Ali, instead of
comforting an orphan could have thrown him into an oven, that is, it
was within his power to do so.
There is no freedom; freedom is very limited; freedom is only in
action. However, when we are to choose to perform an action freely,
God sets a body and spirit for us that are appropriate to that action,
and this is not of our own volition. We are not free in all respects,
only in our actions.
All of these spirits—even before they come into this world, and
even before they become attached to their bodies—are not idle, but
they glorify and exalt God. Nevertheless, these spirits are able to ac-
quire some perfections only after coming into this world.
Just as bodies, according to Mulla Sadra, have substantial mo-
tion—from zygote, to embryo, to fetus—and there will be differences
in essence because of this, likewise the spirits also undergo a course
of substantial motion which depends upon their intentions, decisi-
ons, and the actions they perform on the basis of them.
The point that should be emphasized here is that the spirits are
not of the same kind as bodies. Spirits are abstract and are not ob-
servable, while bodies are observable. Although the spirits are not
observable with these eyes, according to the philosophers they are
imaginally abstract (tajarrud mithālī) and in this sense have shape,
color, and volume.
An analogy can help clarify this issue, but only in one respect, al-
though there are infinite differences from what we are considering;
but God, the Exalted, may be said to be in all existents, and is every-
where, although He is not of the same sort as they are and is not
mixed with them.
I would like to emphasize that the theory of Mulla Sadra is to be
understood in view of the verses of the Qur’ān and the narrations
from the infallibles; and he himself also derived his theory from
reflection on the Qur’ān and hadiths, and then he provided an intel-
lectual analysis of these reflections. His theory is that the spirits of

human beings may be categorized into four groups, on the basis of
the intentions they have, the decisions they make, and the actions
they perform. These four groups are typified by the angel, the devil,
the beast of burden, and the wild animal. Each of these groups have
various subtypes. According to Islamic philosophy, each angel is of a
species of its own. The devils are of various sorts, for each of them
has its own form of deception: the devils of the scholars must have
their own talents; the devils of the politicians must have their own
talents; and likewise for the devils of the merchants, and others.
Likewise, among the wild animals, one person is a wolf, another is a
lion, a third is a fox. All the various kinds of wild animals are wild,
but they are not of a single reality (ḥaqīqat). Likewise, among the
beasts, there are cows, sheep, horses, and others, all of which are
beasts, but they are not of a single reality and kind. The explanation
for this is that a person who is occupied with human activities will
make his decisions only on the basis of human inclinations, and all
of the non-human inclinations will be subsumed under the human
inclinations. These people will move in the direction of the angelic,
and as a result will become different types of angels. One who is oc-
cupied with deception, trickery, and fraud, and who deceives and
misleads others, will take the shape of various devils in his interior,
that is, in his spirit, his substance and identity. As for those who are
solely preoccupied with eating, sleeping, corporeal comforts, and se-
xual relations, they are the ones who move in the direction of the
beasts of burden. Because of the differences among them in the
manner in which they employ these animal instincts, they will be
divided into different sorts of animals. Those who think about domi-
nation over others and pinching their property will be categorized
among the wild animals.
The point to notice here is that the variety of people in these four
groups is of many more types than the number of types of animals,
because people have various faculties, and each faculty requires
something. On the basis of what faculty dominates, in every circum-
stance that comes up in the course of life, the spirits of people will
take different shapes, that is, their imaginal existences will take on
shapes that are not found in any animal. The Most Noble Prophet
said that on the Day of Judgment people will be gathered such that
the swine and even what is uglier than the swine will be beautiful by
comparison. As has been indicated, that imaginal reality will be seen
on the Day of Judgment. More importantly, there are individuals in
this world who are able always to see people with their interior fa-
ces, that is, with their spiritual faces. Likewise, there are people who
acquire this ability only for a few moments or a few hours, either be-
cause of the influence of a perfect man over them, or because of
some extraordinary deed that they perform themselves. However,
afterwards they are not able to retain this ability. As long as they do
not commit any sin, that eye will be open, and they will be able to
see people with their spiritual faces in addition to seeing their cor-
poreal faces.
For all people, even the most evil of people, even the most wild
or the most bestial, there is a nature that can flourish as a result of
the deeds one decides to perform. Even if one has spent one’s entire
life in sin and corruption, all at one a great transformation can oc-
cur, and from that moment on one can be transformed into a human
being.
Since the mercy of God has priority over His wrath, He gives
such people abundant help so that for the rest of their lives, which
might not be very long, they will travel and arrive at places to which
a pious person might not arrive even after a life of seventy or eighty
years.
With respect to the views of Mulla Sadra on this issue, the
differences from the position I have outlined here are: first, Mulla
Sadra believed that spirits do not exist before their bodies do; but I
believe that the spirits existed before that. The second difference is
the Mulla Sadra believed that all spirits at the beginning of their
coming to be are all of one kind, and that it is in the continuation of
their substantial motion that differentiation occurs among them. I,
however, believe that right from the beginning, they are of different
kinds. A third difference, which is fundamental, is that I believe that
the body and spirit are two existents that are distinct from one
another. The spirit has an existence for itself, while the body has
another existence. Each of them has life in a sense specific to it. The
body has a natural life and the spirit has a divine life. Mulla Sadra,
however, believes that the body and spirit are a single reality, and
that these two lives are the possessions of this one reality, that is,
this one reality, while having a vegetable life and being material and
having substance, at the same time has an imaginal existence a life
that is barzakhī (literally, like an isthmus, intermediary between the
sensory and the purely abstract), and which is immaterial. In addi-
tion, Mulla Sadra believes that there are people, although only a few,
who also have an intellectual existence, which do not have any shape
or color. In this respect, they are like God, although only in this re-
spect. A fourth difference is that Mulla Sadra believes that material
existence is a level of human existence; it is part of being human, ex-
cept that it is only for a period in this world, but in the course of
substantial motion, this existent that has three levels in the outstan-
ding individual: material, imaginal, and intellectual, and that has
two levels in ordinary individuals: material and imaginal, is such
that after natural death occurs, the material level comes to an end.
With substantial motion and the transformation that takes place
internally, this existence achieves a state in which it abandons the
material level. This is like a snake that sheds its skin. The skin is cast
aside and the person becomes like an imaginal or intellectual
existence, or purely imaginal. Ordinary people will have only an
imaginal existence, but the outstanding people will have an intel-
lectual existence. Other than these four points, we are in agreement.
Both in Christianity and in Islam there are differences of opinion
about the nature of the spirit. Some say that the spirit has been cre-
ated prior to the body, and others deny this. All of them advance
their positions in view of the same sorts of scriptural evidence, but
they arrive at different philosophical interpretations of the religious
sources.
With regard to the prior existence of the soul, Mulla Sadra claims
that there are fifteen reasons or, as he says, “proofs,” of this matter
to show that it is impossible for the soul to exist prior to the body.
However, I do not consider his reasons to be “proofs”. The outward
meaning of the religious sources is that the soul existed before the
body; but since Mulla Sadra believed that he had proofs that the soul
could not exist prior to the body, and since rational proof has pri-
ority over the literal meaning of the religious sources, he gave them
an interpretation that differed from their literal meaning. However,
since I do not believe that the reasons Mulla Sadra offered are sound
arguments, there is no reason to reject the literal meaning of the
religious sources, even though I do not make any claim to have a ra-
tional proof for the contrary position, that is, that souls existed be-
fore the creation of bodies. There are others who have claimed to ha-
ve such philosophical proofs for the prior existence of spirits, but I
do not consider them to be sound. Now, since we have no sound and
convincing proofs in this regard, neither for the prior existence of
bodies nor for the prior existence of souls, we should accept the
literal meaning of our scriptural sources.
Is Hylomorphism a Neglected Option in
Philosophy of Mind?*
Georg Gasser, Innsbruck
1. Two Basic Assumptions of Contemporary Philosophy of Mind
How could the aggregation of millions of individually insentient neu-

rons generate subjective awareness? We know that brains are the de
facto causal basis of consciousness, but we have, it seems, no under-
standing whatever of how this can be so (McGinn, 1989, 349).
The whole idea of objective physical reality depends on excluding the

subjective appearances from the external world and consigning them
to the mind instead (Nagel 1994, 66).
On the most common conception of nature, the nature is the physical

world. But on the most common conception of consciousness, it is not
easy to see how it could be part of the physical world. So it seems that
to find a place for consciousness within the natural order, we must ei-
ther revise our conception of consciousness, or revise our conception of
nature (Chalmers 2003, 102).
How can there be such a thing as consciousness in a physical world, a

world consisting ultimately of nothing but bits of matter distributed
over space-time behaving in accordance with physical law? (Kim 2005,
7)
These paradigmatic quotes of leading contemporary philosophers of

mind show that modern philosophy of mind is based upon two
fundamental assumptions, (i) the dichotomy assumption and (ii) the
privileged access assumption (I owe these terms to Jaworski
2006/7). Both assumptions, so the story goes, originated prominen-
tly for the first time in Descartes’ distinction between res cogitans
and res extensa as fundamental characterizations of the mental and
the physical. Ever since, they shape Post-Cartesian reflection upon
44 Georg Gasser
matter and mind. For the course of argument in this article it is se-
condary whether it was really Descartes to bring these arguments on
the table of philosophical discussion. I simply accept the thesis that
modern philosophy of mind received its specific shape from Carte-
sian thought and therefore I refer to modern philosophy of mind as
Post-Cartesian-philosophy. More important is a close characteriza-
tion of the two assumptions:
(i) The dichotomy assumption. Generally, modern philosophers
conceive the mental and the physical as two different conceptual
frameworks that are not reducible to each other. Each framework is
spelled out in terms of certain characteristics the other framework
does not share. Take, for instance, Donald Davidson’s claim of the
anomalousness of the mental: According to Davidson, the concep-
tual framework for mental phenomena is anomalous, that is, there
are no laws connecting mental processes. Mental processes are con-
nected through intentionality. Physical phenomena, to the contrary,
are described in a framework working essentially with nomological
connections and are void of intentionality. These two conceptual
frameworks are conceptually independent of each other. This con-
ceptual independence does not imply, however, that phenomena
described as mental or physical are necessarily mental or physical
entities. The distinction is first of all epistemological. As is well
known, Davidson himself argued that the anomalousness of the
mental prevents any form of reduction of the mental to the physical
(see, for instance, Davidson 1993). Nevertheless, he was not embra-
cing any form of ontological dualism but arguing for a version of
non-reductive physicalism.
(ii) The privileged access assumption. The privileged access as-
sumption serves to characterise an essential feature of the mental
side of the dichotomy assumption. Basically, this assumption says
that the subject of mental states is in a better position than anyone
else to know that these states are instantiated, for only the subject
herself has an immediate direct access to them. Mental states are
always somebody’s states; they imply a subject of experience: There
is “a ‘first person’, an ‘I’, that has these states”. Physical properties,
on the contrary, are public, that is, every cognizing entity enjoys the
Is Hylomorphism a Neglected Option in Philosophy of Mind? 45
same epistemological status towards them. This means that no

“subject is necessarily better placed to know that it is instantiated
than is any other subject” (Swinburne 1994, 311-2).
2. Problems Resulting from the Conceptual Divide
These two assumptions lead to various problems in modern philo-

sophy of mind. Take the zombie-argument (see, for instance, Bealer
1994): According to this argument, a system is conceivable which is
physically identical to a conscious being though it lacks the con-
scious being’s mental states: It behaves the same way as the consci-
ous being and from the outside none would suspect that this physi-
cal system is not experiencing conscious states at all. We might also
assume that this system enjoys only some conscious states or com-
pletely different conscious states as conscious beings we know of.
The point is that from a third-person perspective we cannot tell
what the physical system is in fact experiencing: Its physiological
states might be identical with those of the conscious being atom for
atom and, nevertheless, things might look different from the first-
person perspective. Whether such systems truly could develop is se-
condary for the argument. Important is that they are conceivable;
and there seems to be no incoherence in assuming that there might
exist a universe which is physically identical to ours but without
consciousness. Therefore, so the argument goes, consciousness must
be a further ingredient in the ontological furniture of the world,
something non-physical accessible only from “the inside”, for if it
were something physical, then zombies would not be conceivable.
Similar to the zombie-argument is the so-called knowledge-argu-
ment. According to this argument from the knowledge of all physical
facts we cannot make any deductions to facts about consciousness.
Imagine a computer knowing everything about our physiological
facts without being a subject of experience. Even complete know-
ledge and correct reasoning of what can be deduced from this
knowledge about physical facts would not enable the computer to
know “what it is like for us” to experience. If this computer comes to
46 Georg Gasser
make an experience itself for the first time, let’s say it feels pain,
then it gains new knowledge—it learns “what it is like” to feel pain.
Thus, omniscience regarding all physical facts is not omniscience
simpliciter, for there are further facts to be known that are neither
physical themselves nor deducible from physical facts.
These and other arguments in contemporary philosophy of mind
begin by establishing an epistemic gap between the physical and the
mental. As the dichotomy assumption underlines, there is no epis-
temic relation between the two domains. From this supposed epis-
temic gap an ontological gap is inferred: From the zombie-argument
one is to infer the conceivability of zombies—that is the conceivabil-
ity of a world that is metaphysically distinct from ours though being
identical in physical terms. From the knowledge-argument one is to
infer that since mental states cannot be deduced from physical
states, there is an ontological difference between these states.
The validity of the epistemic part of these arguments is widely
accepted; the drawn ontological conclusions, instead, are hotly dis-
puted because they present an unwelcome consequence to many
philosophers. Dualism is a price most philosophers are unwilling to
pay; and therefore much energy is concentrated on how one might
resist the conceptual divide and its possible ontological consequen-
ces.
Reductive physicalism as an alternative, however, appears as
well to be rather unattractive, for there are no models convincingly
showing how the mental might possibly be reducible to the basic
material constituents of our world. Even most elaborated versions of
reductive physicalism such as Jaegwon Kim’s Physicalism or Some-
thing Near Enough confess that a global reduction of the mental to
the physical appears to be untenable: Even though there are pro-
spects to reduce the intentional and cognitive features of the mental,
qualitative properties seem to resist reduction (Kim 2005, chap. 6).
The remaining possibility is to argue for a new notion of matter
being in nature both physical and (proto-) conscious. Though this
approach seems to be on the upswing (see e.g. Brüntrup 32008,
chap. 8) it appears to be rather speculative given our current know-
ledge about the material world (see Chalmers 2003, 129-133).
No matter which alternative we embrace, all of them are based

upon the mental/physical divide and its corresponding distinctions:
inner/outer, subjective/objective and privileged/public. The Carte-
sian res cogitans and res extensa set the categories in terms of which
philosophical reflection still takes place.
3. Aristotelian Hylomorphism as a Non-Dualist and Non-Physicalist

Alternative?
In the light of the current cul-de-sac in philosophy of mind it is un-

derstandable that quite a few philosophers wish to overcome the
divide between the mental and the physical and its corresponding
ontological commitments. Very often these philosophers argue that
Aristotelian philosophy provides a salutary alternative for under-
standing reality in neither physicalist nor dualist terms. According
to their understanding Aristotelian philosophy accounts for a more
holistic and commonsensical understanding of living beings in gen-
eral and the human person in particular.
Proponents of the Aristotelian approach argue that the mind-
body problem as most persistent Cartesian legacy plaguing modern
philosophy can be overcome, if Aristotelian ontological categories
are re-introduced in modern philosophical discussion (see, for
instance, Wilkes 1992; Frede 1992; McGinn 2000, Jaworski 2004/5;
Kläden 2005; Runggaldier 2006; Jaworski 2006/7; Hacker 2007,
21-28).
Before discussing the claimed advantages of the Aristotelian
framework in more detail, I would like to present the Aristotelian
understanding of soul and matter as conceptual alternatives to the
Post-Cartesian notions of the mental and the physical.
3.1. The Aristotelian Notion of Soul
Aristotle defines the soul as the form of the body: It is the source of
all characteristic activities of the living being—the ‘principle’ of life
that makes the living being of the kind it is (De Anima 412a15-21).
48 Georg Gasser
Thus, the soul, as Aristotle construed it, is the set of capacities the
actualisation of which is typical of the living being. Consequently,
the concept of soul was not reserved exclusively for mental capaci-
ties but it embraced all living processes. The general concept of soul
serves to draw the general demarcation line between living and non-
living entities. What distinguishes living beings from each other are
different kinds of souls. A human soul is different from the soul of a
plant, for instance, because along with vegetative faculties such as
nutrition and growth, it incorporates sensitive faculties such as per-
ception, motion and appetite, and finally rational faculties such as
thought and decision. The differences among organisms in terms of
functional organisation, vital faculties and behaviour are not due to
the presence or absence of a soul but due to its different levels of
complexity. Plants have a less complex soul than animals and ani-
mals a less complex one than human beings.
As principle of life the soul defines the existence and persistence
conditions of a living being: Though the material constituents of an
organism change over time, the soul remains the same and guaran-
tees the functional organisation of the organism and the exercise of
its faculties. Martha C. Nussbaum writes:
The lion may change its shape, get thin or fat, without ceasing to be the
same lion; its form is not its shape but its soul, the set of vital capaci-
ties, the functional organization, in virtue of which it lives and acts
(Nussbaum 1978, 71).
Hence, the soul is not an entity attached to the body but it is its form
or nature. That is, Aristotle conceives all of the various faculties of
living beings as having their sources within the organism, and as a
consequence these faculties show the organism to be a (partially)
self-developing, self-maintaining and self-moving entity.
From this it follows that the same faculty, viz. the same activity,
would be of a different nature if it did not arise out of the same kind
of soul: If a robot were able to reason like a human being does, then
the process of reasoning, though being structurally the same, would
nevertheless be of a different kind due to the fact that a robot and a
human being do not share the same soul. What makes human rea-
soning the process it is, and thus essential to our understanding of

it, is that it is the actualisation of the capacity of this particular kind
of entity to reason.
3.2. The Aristotelian Notion of Matter
The Aristotelian notion of the soul has a deep impact on the notion
of matter. Understood as principle of life, the soul is not something
separate that is added to a lifeless body, such that as a result of this
‘synthesis’ an organism comes into being. The concept of soul is es-
sentially related to the concept of matter: There is no formless mat-
ter but each parcel of matter is already formed to a specific natural
body endowed with certain faculties.
Frank A. Lewis speaks of a “top-down view” of matter, that is,
the form or nature ‘reaches down’ as a whole and determines all the
parts of which the entity consists (Lewis 1994, 250). Hence, where
organisms are concerned, their matter is always “living matter”
(Ackrill 1979, 68) because “the body we are told to pick out as the
‘material constituent’ of the animal depends for its very identity on
its being alive, in-formed by psychē” (Ackrill 1972/73, 126; for a
congenial account see Whiting 1992).
As a consequence the Aristotelian notion of matter varies from
case to case: Each kind of living being has a specific kind of (proxi-
mate) matter that is characteristic for this kind of being. Aristotelian
matter is not physical matter in terms of which basic physical parti-
cles build up all material reality. Aristotelian matter is not prior to
specific things but ‘last’ in the sense that it is closest to the form. It is
that of which the form is the first actualisation (De Anima
412a29ff.), that is, the living body.
Hence, primary to an Aristotelian understanding of living beings
is to capture them as strong organised unity, not as physical body
which can be partitioned into smaller particles. Marie McGinn un-
derlines that
“[t]he significance of the Aristotelian distinction between form and

matter is that it enables us to conceive of individual natural bodies, not
50 Georg Gasser
as complex collections of material parts, but as autonomous, real

things possessing an intrinsic unity quite different from that of an ag-
gregate.” (McGinn 2000, 308)
According to this understanding, the analysis of matter ought to

occur posterior to the analysis of the living being itself. Starting
from the living being, so to say, one can proceed to its parts and fi-
nally reach the ultimate material constituents of the organism. The-
se material constituents are the product of a continuous process of
abstraction because the organism itself and its specific form are not
taken into consideration anymore when the ultimate constituents
are investigated.
Such a procedure is legitimate; but it has to be kept in mind that
these ultimate constituents are not primary but, ontologically
speaking, ultimate. To investigate basic material constituents we ha-
ve to ‘remove’ them from the organism they are part of in a process
of abstraction; and through this process of abstraction they are seen
as (more or less) ‘formless’ particulars void of any specific nature
and actualisation.
3.3. Aristotelian Lures
If this account of Aristotelian thought is correct, then its purported

superiority over Post-Cartesian philosophy becomes apparent:
Within the Aristotelian framework, the separation of body and mind
can hardly arise, because the living being itself and not its material
constituents and their properties are seen as the primary subject of
metaphysical investigation. As actualisation of the body, the soul gu-
arantees the organism’s unity and tells us its specific existence and
persistence conditions, that is, what it is to be this specific kind of
organism synchronically and diachronically. Obviously, the faculty
of reason is distinctive for human beings and therefore of most
interest. Nevertheless, also this faculty has its source in the soul in
the same way as all other less complex biological faculties do.
Most importantly, if each organism is considered as an insepara-
ble living entity, then from an Aristotelian perspective, our modern
account of matter as last physical particles of reality looks not only

impoverished but also seems to be something which is not real
stricto sensu. As mentioned, the notion of a single, uniform matter
accessible to quantitative means of measurement is the result of a
thought process abstracting from the notion of form as internal
principle of organisation and change.
If, however, the organism’s body is conceived in this way as
nothing else than the structured sum of its material constituents,
then the notion of form as internal principle of organisation and de-
velopment of the body becomes superfluous. As a consequence, the
body and its functions are seen as the subject matter of natural
science describable from a third-person perspective, whereas mental
capacities apparently bound to a first-person perspective are not to
be integrated in such a framework. Body and mind start drifting a-
part: The toehold for either dualistic thinking or for physicalist
reductionism has been created.
Kathleen V. Wilkes, for instance, argues along these lines when
she enumerates several dimensions of the Aristotelian concept of
soul in order to demonstrate its superiority over Post-Cartesian con-
ceptions of the mind. I would just like to mention: (i) the emphasis
of the unity for all the brain and behavioral sciences; (ii) the em-
phasis on capacities or functions rather than individual mental
items; (iii) the accentuation of the heterogeneity of the human soul;
and (iv) the attribution of no particular importance to the mental
(Wilkes 1992, 116-125).
For reasons of clarity I comment shortly on (i) and (ii). First, ac-
cording to Wilkes, the insight that all faculties arise out of the soul
underlines that human beings are just one species in the animal
kingdom among others. The faculty of reason is not separated from
our other faculties that we share with animals. Rather, the unity of
the soul indicates their interlocking nature showing that we could
not reason as we do without our sensory apparatus and that we
could not sense as we do without our locomotion system. Modern
science seems to prove this insight: Modern developmental psychol-
ogy stresses the gradual articulation of the full set of vital capacities
of an organism from less complex ones; and cognitive science dem-
52 Georg Gasser
onstrates the intimate connection between bodily and mental states,

for instance, in studying motor cognition and neuro-psychological
disorders (Wilkes 1992, 116ff.).
Secondly, Wilkes argues that the notion of soul focuses attention
on faculties and capacities rather than on specific mental items, and
on types of behavior rather than on single actions. In Post-Cartesian
philosophy, instead, the epistemological concern is to find immedi-
ate conscious introspection of the contents of the mind. The mind is
conceived as an inner space in which mental items are accessed
from our inner eye similar to our observation of external objects
with our senses. The human mind, however, is not a kind of entity;
rather, it becomes apparent in human behavior. Talking about the
mind is the result of an abstraction from our talk of human beings
and their specific rational faculties.
William Jaworski also argues in a similar fashion as Wilkes. Ac-
cording to his understanding, contemporary psychological discourse
analyses the observable behavior of persons in terms of postulated
inner (mental) items which cause the observable behavior to happen
(Jaworski 2004/5 and 2006/7). An instructive example for such a
theory is Davidson’s causal theory of action. It claims that reasons
for action must be causes of action if reasons are to play an infor-
mative role in our action explanations (see Davidson 1963/2001).
Davidson’s account starts from observable behavior and argues
that a full explanation of this behavior can only be provided if the
reasons given for it are part of the causal story resulting in the
observed behavior. So the rather elusive nature of reasons ought to
be transformed in the concrete and tangible nature of physical cau-
ses. Otherwise, reasons for the action might rationalize the behavior
but not explain it because it is unclear how they could figure in the
causal process effecting the observed behavior. It is apparent that
such an analysis of human action works with Post-Cartesian dis-
tinctions such as inner (“causes in the agent”)/outer (“behavior of
the agent”) and mental (“reasons for action”)/physical (“causes of
action”).
Within a hylomorphic framework, instead, these distinctions are
sidestepped. Human actions are described neither as something
mental or physical but as the exercise of human capacities that are

at once both psychological and bodily. The behavioral events which
constitute the tipping of this paper exhibit a characteristic form of
intentional human action. Reference to the firing of the neurons, the
flexing of the muscles and their effects on my computer will not
suffice for an adequate explanation of the behavior under discus-
sion. These events take place as the realization of an intentional
bodily performance. Their occurrence is determined by their being
an integral part of a sequence of events which forms a unity by the
meaning of the action that it physically realizes. A hylomorphic
account of human behavior includes expressions that are action and
body inclusive (Jaworski 2006/7, 213; McGinn 2000, 312-313,
makes the same point speaking of the human body as psycho-
physical unity). Such an approach underlines from the very begin-
ning that a human agent is at once living being, cognizer and
decider: The whole array of organic, sensitive and rational faculties
a human individual is able to utilize is required for describing her
actions adequately.
It becomes clear that a hylomorphic account is first of all de-
scriptive, that is, the ‘form’ of the behavior is analyzed: It tells us
what an individual can do, that is, with which capacities an individ-
ual is endowed. In a next step it can be asked which organic struc-
tures enable the exercise of these capacities. It is natural science
which ought to investigate these structures and detect the material
elements that make the organism’s behavior possible. Hence, hu-
man action in particular and the behavior of organisms in general
are conceived as multi-structured phenomena that can be accessed
from different perspectives:
The ‘formal’ perspective tells us what array of behavior is con-
stitutive of this organism, whereas the ‘material’ perspective tells us
which elements work in which way for enabling the organism to
perform it. By holding such a point of view, hylomorphism does not
solve the mind-body problem—it sidesteps and thereby dissolves it
(see also Hacker 2007, chap. 8 and 9).
54 Georg Gasser
4. Remaining Costs and Overlooked Problems
I just presented several reasons in the light of which philosophers

prefer an Aristotelian over a Post-Cartesian framework for analyzing
the human person (as well as organisms). It has to be kept in mind,
however, that every philosophical framework comes packaged with
certain costs of its own. In the remaining part of my contribution I
would like to address some costs resulting from the Aristotelian fra-
mework. Indicating these costs shall help to determine whether a
hylomorphic account truly is preferable over approaches influenced
by Post-Cartesian reflections.
(i) One purported drawback of Post-Cartesian thinking is a di-
chotomous understanding of reality: inanimate quantitatively de-
scribable matter on the one hand, and experiencing mental subjects
on the other hand. This dichotomy goes through organisms them-
selves, for not all organisms are on a par: Fungi, bacteria and
plants—all organisms that are non-sentient and thus unable to have
any experiences—would just be complex structured bodies functio-
ning according to biochemical mechanisms. With the capacity to
sense qualitatively, however, the ontological furniture of the world
becomes enriched: All organisms capable of experience are not their
bodies (at least the “are” needs further qualification) but are
subjects of experience having a complex structured body (see, for
instance, Lowe 2004, 853-856).
As seen, hylomorphism avoids such a dualist understanding of
organisms endowed with certain faculties. Nevertheless, it is com-
mitted to a fundamental ontological dichotomy as well, namely be-
tween living beings and non-living beings: As the first actualisation
of a living body, the soul makes a living being into a unified entity
stricto sensu. In the light of our current knowledge about the evolu-
tion of life, however, this Aristotelian claim seems to be on unstable
ground. The first living beings were nothing more than organic
molecules which for some reason started to replicate themselves.
Such primitive living beings are minimally distinct from other non-
living macro-molecules. Both things are entirely analyzable in bio-
chemical terms. It is unclear why we should assume that, ontologi-
cally speaking, something new comes into being with these self-re-
producing biochemical molecules. This is not to deny that the evo-
lution of these biochemical structures might be an astonishing fact
in natural history. It seems much more astonishing, however, that at
some point in natural history simple organisms began to experience
“what it’s like” to sense warm or cold, dark or light, loud or silent. If
this reasoning is correct, then the Cartesian insight seems to be
more fundamental than the Aristotelian one: It is granted to Aris-
totle that with the evolution of life new ways for describing the be-
haviour of the evolved organisms became necessary, and the concept
of soul provides explanations of why living beings are categorized as
the kind of things they are. With the evolution of organisms capable
of experience, however, subjects came into being and with subjects
the ontological furniture of the world changed: From now on there
was someone in the world taking a particular stance towards it.
What a dualist philosopher claims is that the Aristotelian emphasis
on the biological does not yet hit ontological ground: There is some-
thing deeper, more fundamental about the world we live in than the
rise of life—it is the rise of subjects of experience.
Advocating such a view does not imply rejecting the intimate
connection between the various biological faculties of an organism
and its faculties to sense and to reason. It implies that these faculties
appear to be so essential and so fundamentally different from other
biological faculties such as growth, photosynthesis or digestion that
we seem to be justified in arguing for an ontological divide between
the bearers of the former faculty and those of the latter ones. Bear-
ers of sensations are organisms in a derivative sense: As said, they
are organisms in virtue of having an organic body as opposed to
non-sentient organisms being their body.
For Wilkes it is a merit of Aristotelian philosophy that it does not
assign to consciousness the salient role it plays in modern philoso-
phy. To me it seems that hylomorphism is able to maintain the unity
of the human person (and of other sentient animals) exactly because
a metaphysical analysis of consciousness is largely ignored. Ac-
cording to P.S.M. Hacker, it was a major misfortune for philosophy
that in contrast to Aristotle no great philosopher in modernity was a
56 Georg Gasser
biologist (Hacker 2007, 24). In the light of the foregoing considera-

tions, it seems correct to say that Aristotle’s metaphysical concep-
tion of living beings was indeed so deeply influenced by biology that
he skipped over a closer scrutiny of consciousness—contrary to Des-
cartes. Descartes emphasized that consciousness presupposes a
change of perspective for conceiving it; it presupposes a first-person
perspective because there is someone being conscious and able to
experience. Growth, photosynthesis, digestion and other vegetative
faculties, to the contrary, are entirely describable from a third-
person perspective in the same way as all other physical processes.
(ii) Here is a further argument raising doubts about the outstan-
ding value of hylomorphism for metaphysical reflection: According
to hylomorphism two identical processes in terms of their material
components might be different in nature. Let’s suppose that one
process of digestion takes place in the stomach of an organism
whereas the other process of digestion is an artificial reproduction of
the first one for the scientific study of digestion. Both processes are
identical in terms of biochemistry but only the first one would count
as a process of digestion. This is so because what makes a process of
digestion the process it is, is the actualization of the faculty of the
organism to digest. For an adequate understanding, the digestion of
food requires the reference to the actualization of the corresponding
faculty of the organism which it has in virtue of its soul. The second,
artificially reproduced process of digestion lacks, so to say, the soul
as its grounding principle of actualization. Philosophers sympathetic
towards hylomorphism underline that the soul or form of an
organism does not add a mysterious vis vitalis to the organism; it
adds, instead, a further level of understanding to what happens:
Only due to the reference to the organism itself we realize that this
case of metabolism covers the specific needs of a particular living
being and not just the thirst for knowledge of scientists studying
metabolisms.
Drawing a distinction in this way sounds reasonable. It is unclear
to me, however, which role to the notion of soul is assigned in this
case. It seems that the soul is not conceived as a metaphysical prin-
ciple that is constitutive for living beings rather than as a mere heu-
ristic tool for explanatory purposes. An appeal to the soul would me-
rely tell us that in one case the metabolism serves for the survival of
an organism and is thus, a natural process, whereas in the other case
no living being is involved and thus it is just an artificial recon-
struction of a natural process. As informative as such an insight
might be in terms of the circumstances in which both processes take
place or in terms of their teleonomic features, it does not provide us
with any ontological insight. As in my first criticism, hylomorphism
seems to provide not so much a framework for metaphysical reflec-
tion as one for empirical investigation: It reminds natural scientists
not to forget the larger context of their specific research.
(iii) Finally, I would like to rebut the claim that a hylomorphic
theory of mind helps us to present the language we use to describe
human action in a more adequate way than the Post-Cartesian dis-
tinctions between mental/physical and inner/outer. Wilkes and
Jaworski are right that the emphasis upon singular mental items in
the mind of an agent can be seen as an outcome of Cartesian think-
ing. To conceive reasons for action as causes of action presupposes a
consideration of mental states as distinct entities in an agent’s mind
to which the agent presumably has privileged access. Such an inter-
pretation of our mental states, however, is not the only viable con-
ceptualization in the light of Post-Cartesian philosophy of mind. On
the contrary, it appears to be a gross misinterpretation because our
mental states are considered to be on a par with external objects;
just their nature and location is different: The first ones are mental
and accessible in virtue of our ‘inner eye’, while the latter are physi-
cal and accessible through our ‘outer senses’. According to this
picture, both kinds of entities are accessible externally–once from
the perspective of an inner observer and once from the perspective
of an outer observer.
The Post-Cartesian distinction between the first- and the third-
person perspective does not commit us to this sort of interpretation
of mental states. Rather, we should say that an agent has an inti-
mate epistemological access to her mental states which is essentially
first-personal. If, for instance, an agent makes one of her mental
states (or a combination thereof), such as a determinate belief that p
58 Georg Gasser
or a determinate desire for y, her reason for action, then the agent
has a particular relation to the reason she acts upon: Among the
many mental states that qualify as possible reasons for action, the
agent picks out a determinate one which becomes her personal rea-
son for acting. The agent can only make a reason for action to her
personal reason for action if there is intimate epistemological access
to this reason from the side of the agent. The chosen reason is not
something private in terms of its propositional content. Rather, the
relation of the agent to this reason is something distinctively sub-
jective for the agent chooses this (possible) reason for action to be
her reason for action. As Jaegwon Kim notes:
For when you deliberate, you must call on what you want and believe
about the world—your preferences and information—from your inter-
nal perspective, and that’s the only thing you can call on. The basis of
your deliberation must be internally accessible, for the simple reason
that you can’t use what you haven’t got (Kim 1998, 78).
It is a first-personal as opposed to a third-personal account that cha-

racterizes reasons for action in contrast to causes of bodily behavior.
And this characterization of reasons for action is spelled out in a
Post-Cartesian rather than an Aristotelian framework.
An Aristotelian framework construes the analysis of human ac-
tion entirely different. There are two levels of discourse accounting
for human behavior: Psychological discourse describes the structure
of reasons in human behavior; whereas the natural sciences describe
which physical substructures enable rational behavior to occur. Hu-
man action is conceived as a multi-structural phenomenon, natural
science referring to the lower structures and psychology to the
higher ones (see Jaworski 2006/7, 216ff.). Formulating human ac-
tion as a multi-structured phenomenon appears to presuppose that
human action is accessible from the ‘outside’; we just ought to be
careful which level of human action we are referring to with which
framework.
Such an analysis of human behavior seems to neglect exactly the
point that is crucial for Post-Cartesian philosophy: The true distinc-
tion between the framework of natural science and the framework of
psychological discourse is not a distinction in terms of “different

levels or types of human behavioral organization or structure”
(Jaworski 2006/7, 219). It is a matter of changing one’s perspec-
tive—from the third-person to the first-person. If psychological dis-
course aims at explaining why an agent reasons, decides and acts as
she does, then this context is necessarily a first-person context. Ja-
worski and Wilkes gloss over this point; it seems to be, however, the
real reason why the framework of natural science and of psychology
refer to different aspects of human action. Natural science is void of
any first-person-access in contrast to psychology. It does not pick
out a level of human action which is not complex enough, such as
the neuron’s firing and corresponding muscular movements. It is
simply the wrong level for understanding human behavior at all.
5. Conclusion
I indicated some supposed advantages of an Aristotelian framework

and discussed its drawbacks. According to my understanding,
Descartes brought topics on the table of philosophical reflection that
are essential for any metaphysical reflection about ourselves and
other animals, such as subjectivity and the first-person perspective.
Of course, Post-Cartesian philosophy has problems of its own which
provoke the search for possible alternatives. My own opinion is that
the costs of the Aristotelian alternative are prohibitive, and I tried to
argue that this strategy is ultimately a failure. However, since many
philosophers are sympathetic with the general moves underlying
Aristotelian hylomorphism, I think it ought to have a rightful place
at the table in serious discussions about how to conceive material
objects, living beings and the human person.
References
Ackrill, J.L. (1972/3): “Aristotle’s Definition of psychē”, Proceedings

of the Aristotelian Society 73, 119-133.
60 Georg Gasser
Ackrill, J.L. (1979): “Aristotle’s Distinction Between Energeia and

Kinesis”, in J. Barnes, M. Schofield & R. Sorabji (eds.) Articles on
Aristotle, IV: Psychology and Aesthetics, London: Duckworth, 65-
75.
Aristoteles, De Anima/Über die Seele. Mit Einl., Übers. und
Kommentar hrsg. v. H. Seidl, Hamburg: Felix Meiner Verlag.
Bealer, G. (1994) “Mental Properties”, Journal of Philosophy 91,
185-208.
Brüntrup, G. (32008) Das Leib-Seele-Problem. Eine Einführung,
Stuttgart: Kohlhammer Verlag.
Chalmers, D.J. (2003) “Consciousness and its Place in Nature”, in
S.P. Stich & T.A. Warfield (eds.) The Blackwell Guide to
Philosophy of Mind, Malden, MA: Blackwell, 102-142.
Davidson, D. (1963/2001) “Actions, Reasons and Causes”, Journal
of Philosophy 60, reprinted in D. Davidson (ed.) Essays on
Actions and Events, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 3-20.
Davidson, D. (1993) “Thinking Causes”, in J. Heil, and A. Mele,
(eds.) Mental Causation, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 3-17.
Frede, M. (1992) “On Aristotle’s Conception of the Soul”, in M.C.
Nussbaum & A.O. Rorty (eds.) Essays on Aristotle’s De Anima,
Oxford: Oxford University Press, 93-107.
Hacker, P.S.M. (2007) Human Nature: The Categorial Framework,
Oxford: Blackwell.
Jaworski, W. (2004/5) “Hylomorphism and the Mind-Body-
Problem”, Proceedings of the American Catholic Philosophical
Association 78 (2004), 179-192.
Jaworski, W. (2006/7) “Hylomorphism and Post-Cartesian
Philosophy of Mind”, Proceedings of the American Catholic
Philosophical Association 80 (2006), 209-224.
Kim, J. (1998) “Reasons and the First Person”, in J. Bransen & S.E.
Cuypers (eds.) Human Action, Deliberation and Causation,
Dordrecht: Kluwer, 67-87.
Kim, J. (2005) Physicalism or something near enough, Princeton:
Princeton University Press.
Kläden, T. (2005) Mit Leib und Seele…Die mind-brain-Debatte in der

Philosophie des Geistes und die anima-forma-corporis-Lehre des
Thomas von Aquin, Regensburg: Verlag Friedrich Pustet.
Lewis, F. A. (1994) “Aristotle on the Relation Between a Thing and
its Matter”, in T. Scaltas, D. Charles & M.L. Gill (eds.) Unity,
Identity and Explanation in Aristotle’s Metaphysics. Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 247-277.
Lowe, E.J. (2004) “Non-Cartesian Dualism”, in J. Heil (ed.)
Philosophy of Mind. A guide and anthology, Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 851-865.
McGinn, C. (1989) “Can We Solve the Mind-Body-Problem?”, Mind
98, 349-366.
McGinn, M. (2000) “Real Things and the Mind Body Problem”,
Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society 100, 303-317.
Nagel, T. (1994) “Consciousness and Objective Reality”, in R.
Warner & T. Szubka (eds.) The Mind-Body-Problem. A Guide to
the Current Debate, Oxford: Blackwell, 63-68.
Nussbaum, M.C. (1978) Aristotle’s De Motu Animalium, Princeton.
Runggaldier, E. (2006) “The Aristotelian Alternative to Functio-
nalism and Dualism”, in B. Niederbacher & E. Runggaldier (eds.)
Die menschliche Seele. Brauchen wir den Dualismus?, Heusen-
stamm: Ontos, 221-248.
Swinburne, R. (1994) “Body and Soul”, in R. Warner & T. Szubka
(eds.) The Mind-Body-Problem. A Guide to the Current Debate,
Oxford: Blackwell, 311-316.
Whiting, J. (1992) “Living Bodies”, in M.C. Nussbaum & A.O. Rorty,
(eds.) Essays on Aristotle’s De Anima, Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 75-91.
Wilkes, K.V. (1992) “Psuchē versus the Mind”, in M.C. Nussbaum &
A.O. Rorty (eds.) Essays on Aristotle’s De Anima, Oxford: Oxford
*This research-project was made possible by financial support from the Austrian Science Fund (FWF),
grant P201860-G14.
Are Near-death Experiences Evidence
for the Existence of the Soul?
Hans Goller, Innsbruck
1. What is a near-death experience?
In his bestseller “Life after life, the investigation of a phenomenon—

survival of bodily death”, Raymond Moody, a philosopher and
medical doctor, offers an example of a near-death experience (NDE)
that includes all of the common elements found in the reports of
persons who had such an experience.
“A man is dying and, as he reaches the point of greatest physical

distress, he hears himself pronounced dead by his doctor. He begins to
hear an uncomfortable noise, a loud ringing or buzzing, and at the
same time feels himself moving very rapidly through a long dark tun-
nel. After this, he suddenly finds himself outside of his own physical
body, but still in the immediate physical environment, and he sees his
own body from a distance, as though he is a spectator. He watches the
resuscitation attempt from this unusual vantage point and is in a state
of emotional upheaval.
After a while, he collects himself and becomes more accustomed to his
odd condition. He notices that he still has a ‘body’, but one of a very
different nature and with very different powers from the physical body
he has left behind. Soon other things begin to happen. Others come to
meet and to help him. He glimpses the spirits of relatives and friends
who have already died, and a loving, warm spirit of a kind he has never
encountered before—a being of light—appears before him. This being
asks him a question, nonverbally, to make him evaluate his life and
helps him along by showing him a panoramic, instantaneous playback
of the major events of his life. At some point he finds himself approa-
ching some sort of barrier or border, apparently representing the limit
between earthly life and the next life. Yet, he finds that he must go back
to the earth, that the time for his death has not yet come. At this point
he resists, for by now he is taken up with his experiences in the afterlife
and does not want to return. He is overwhelmed by intense feelings of
joy, love, and peace. Despite his attitude, though, he somehow reunites
with his physical body and lives.
64 Hans Goller
Later he tries to tell others, but he has trouble doing so. In the first
place, he can find no human words adequate to describe these
unearthly episodes. He also finds that others scoff, so he stops telling
other people. Still, the experience affects his life profoundly, especially
his views about death and its relationship to life” (Moody 1976, 21-23).
Moody describes a set of nine traits that define NDEs. I would like to
focus on one particular trait, namely the Out-of-body experience
(OBE). I will argue that the OBE is the most important feature of the
NDE.
2. What is an out-of-body experience?
OBE is an experience characterized by floating outside one’s body

while retaining a sense of personal identity and a heightened sense
of consciousness. Most people report looking down from above at
their physical bodies and can relate from this vantage point percep-
tions of events occurring that were later verified by participants
present (see: Beauregard & O’Leary 2007, 157). Moody describes a
typical OBE in the following way:
“Frequently about the time that the doctor says, ‘We’ve lost him or
her,’ the patient undergoes a complete change of perspective. He feels
himself rising up and viewing his own body below. Most people say
they are not just some spot of consciousness when this happens. They
still seem to be in some kind of body even though they are out of their
physical bodies. They say the spiritual body has shape and form unlike
our physical bodies. It has arms and a shape although most are at a
loss to describe what it looks like. Some people describe it as a cloud of
colors, or an energy field” (Moody 2005, 9).
A person in a spiritual body is inaudible and also invisible to the

people around her. Her spiritual body is weightless and also lacks
solidity; physical objects in the environment appear to move
through it with ease, and she is unable to get a grip on any object or
person she tries to touch (see: Moody 1976, 44).
Near-death Experiences and the Existence of the Soul 65
A person experiencing an out-of-body state is separated from her

physical body creating a qualified sense of isolation from others. She
can see other people and understand their thoughts completely, but
they only see her material body and are not able to communicate
with her. The reduction of possible communication leads to a sense
of profound isolation and loneliness (see: Moody 1976, 53). More-
over, as has been noted, OBEs are characterized by an altered sense
of temporality. People who have undergone a NDE say that time is
greatly compressed and challenges our common notions of time.
They have described this state as analogous to “being in eternity”.
One woman, when asked how long her NDE lasted, reflects this
tendency—she stated: “You could say it lasted one second or that it
lasted ten thousand years and it wouldn’t make any difference how
you put it” (Moody 2005, 16).
3. Research on Near-death experiences
Research on NDE has not been limited to recording and evaluating

the narratives and memories of those claiming to have had a NDE.
Systematic research has been performed on NDEs that presents
both retrospective and prospective studies.
(a) Retrospective studies

Most of the data collected on NDEs have been obtained from
retrospective studies. In these studies, 5 to 30 years may have
elapsed between the occurrence of the experience and its scientific
investigation (see: van Lommel 2006, 136). This time frame often
prevents an accurate assessment of physiological and pharmacolo-
gical factors. Further, it is often difficult to ascertain exactly how
close to death many of these persons really were. Indeed not all
people claiming to have had a NDE were in actuality close to death.
Sometimes the overriding belief that I have to die now, this is the
end of my life; is sufficient to trigger a NDE.
66 Hans Goller
Retrospective studies have been performed by Raymond Moody

(1976), Michael Sabom (1982, 1998), Kenneth Ring (2006), Peter
Fenwick (1996), and Hubert Knoblauch (2002). I will present the
most significant findings of each of these studies.
The philosopher and medical doctor, Raymond Moody intervie-
wed some fifty persons claiming to have had a NDE. He coined the
term ‘Near-Death experience’ in 1975. The American cardiologist
Michael Sabom found Raymond Moody’s bestseller, ‘Life after life’,
to be horribly unscientific. Sabom’s interest was not deterred: “But I
refused to leave science behind. I was convinced that the near-death
experience, if properly studied, could be reduced to a simple scienti-
fic explanation. Five years and 116 interviews later, I found that I
was wrong. No explanation had been found” (Sabom 1998, 175).
The psychologist Kenneth Ring, cofounder and past president of
the International Association for Near-Death Studies, interviewed
31 blind persons, 14 of them blind from birth. Twenty-one of them
had a NDE. Eighty percent of the 31 blind respondents claimed to be
able to see during their NDEs or OBEs (see: Ring 2006, 81). This
lead Ring to speculate: How can any of these blind persons “see”
during a NDE or an OBE given their physical condition? Yet their
perceptions were not lucky guesses, fantasies or reconstructions.
Then he points out: If we can trust these reports we cannot avoid the
implication that there is some conscious aspect of ourselves that can
separate itself from the physical body and no longer be bound by its
physical limitations. One is inclined to think of the soul. The concept
of “the soul”, however, has no place in modern science. The question
thus remains—how else can we view these findings? (see: Ring
2006, 90-91).
Hubert Knoblauch and his colleagues performed a survey in
Germany which took 2044 persons as a random sample of the total
German population. Eighty-two of the respondents, or 4.0% of the
total group, reported a NDE (see: Schmied, Knoblauch & Schnettler
1999, 228). Most of these respondents mentioned car accidents,
surgery, heart attacks, and other acute illnesses as external cause of
their NDEs. The survey was undertaken before the fall of the iron
curtain.
The authors found differences between the reports of NDEs in
East Germany and West Germany. Sixty percent of the East
Germans versus 28.6% of the West Germans reported negative
experiences. Sixty percent of the West Germans reported positive
feelings, in contrast to only 40% of the East Germans (see: Schmied,
Knoblauch & Schnettler 1999, 234). Nonetheless, both populations
shared similar core experiences: life review, encounters with de-
ceased friends and family members, and the presence of a being of
light. Although religious interpretations of NDEs were more com-
mon among West Germans, most of the total respondents were
convinced that their NDE had nothing to do with religion.
Are NDEs little more than unsupported verbal reports or neuro-
logical artifacts of a dying brain? NDEs are inherently subjective,
deeply private, and often indescribable. Therefore, all of the testi-
mony of those who claim to have had such an experience depends
upon their truthfulness, and on the reliability of their memories.
They themselves are convinced that what they have experienced was
no dream, no fantasy or hallucination. Most of them say, that their
NDE was “more real than life itself” or “more real than you and I
sitting here taking about it” (see: Ring 2006, 55-56). Nonetheless,
accounts of NDEs describe the “dying process”, the experience of
being close to death, not death itself.
(b) Prospective studies

In prospective studies the researcher studies the participants before
they have their NDEs, and thus has basic information about the
individuals and a greater degree of control over the circumstances in
which the experience will take place. NDEs have occurred with
increasing frequency because of the improved survival rates resul-
ting from modern techniques of resuscitation (see: van Lommel et
al. 2001; van Lommel 2006). Studies on cardiac arrest patients have
been performed independently by Michael Sabom and Bruce Grey-
68 Hans Goller
son in the US, by Peter Fenwick and Sam Parnia in England; and by
Pim van Lommel in the Netherlands.
Physiologically and clinically, a cardiac arrest is the closest state
to the dying process. Experiences arising during a cardiac arrest
shed the most light on the state of the human mind at the point of
death. During cardiac arrest the clinical criteria of death are met for
a variable length of time ranging from a few seconds to tens of
minutes. By medical definition, patients during cardiac arrest have
at least two out of the three criteria of clinical death (e.g.: the heart
stops beating, and there is no respiration) and often manifest the
third criterion (fixed dilated pupils) rapidly with the subsequent loss
of brainstem functions (see: Parnia & Fenwick 2002, 6).
Michael Sabom launched with The Atlanta Study in 1994 a
comprehensive research project, that included some 160 patients,
most of them drawn from his own clinical practice. He found that 47
patients out of 160 had a NDE (see: Sabom 1998, 32).
Peter Fenwick and Sam Parnia likewise did a study at the
Southampton General Hospital in England that focused on cardiac
arrests and NDE. More specifically, they wanted to find out whether
NDEs occur before unconsciousness, during unconsciousness,
during recovery, or after recovery. Over a one-year period they in-
terviewed all the survivors from cardiac arrest (see: Parnia et al.
2001, 150). Out of 220 people who were admitted for cardiac arrest
during that period, only 63 survived. Fifty-three of them (89%)
could not recall any memories during their cardiac arrest. Seven
patients (11%) had memories and four of them (6.3%) met the crite-
ria for a NDE according to the NDE scale developed by Bruce Grey-
son (1983). These four patients had lucid memories, which were
highly structured, narrative, easily recalled, and coherent. However,
no OBEs were reported in this study.
William Cash quoted Peter Fenwick in his National Post article
(March 3, 2001) where he argued that the data Fenwick collected
provides the first medical evidence that proves the mind can con-
tinue to exist after the body is clinically dead and thus a form of an
afterlife is now scientifically explainable. “Those who return all
report that they have been changed”, he wrote, and further—“Those

who were religious found their faith renewed. Those who had no
faith often acquired at least a belief in some form of an afterlife.”
In a study performed by Greyson (2003) 15.5% of 116 survivors
of cardiac arrest reported a NDE. Prospective studies show that the
percentage of cardiac arrest survivors who reported a NDE ranges
from 11% to 18%.
The most extensive prospective study was performed by the
Dutch cardiologist Pim van Lommel and his colleagues. This study
entailed 344 patients who were successfully resuscitated after
cardiac arrest in ten Dutch hospitals between 1988 and 1992 (see:
van Lommel et al. 2001). All patients had been determined clinically
dead as established mainly by electrocardiogram records. The study
held to the following parameters:
“We defined NDE as the reported memory of all impressions during a

special state of consciousness, including specific elements such as out-
of-body experience, pleasant feelings, and seeing a tunnel, a light,
deceased relatives, or a life review. We defined clinical death as a
period of unconsciousness caused by insufficient blood supply to the
brain because of inadequate blood circulation, breathing, or both. If, in
this situation, CPR (Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation) is not started
within 5-10 minutes, irreparable damage is done to the brain and the
patient will die” (van Lommel et al. 2001, 2040).
Within a few days after resuscitation a short standardized interview

was performed. The patients were asked whether they recollected
the period of unconsciousness, and what they recalled. Van Lommel
et al. (2001) found that 282 of the 344 patients (82%) had no
recollection of the period of cardiac arrest. Sixty-two patients (18%)
reported some recollection at the time of clinical death. Of these
patients, 21 had a superficial NDE and 41 had a core experience.
Twenty-three of the core group (7% of the total group) reported
what could be termed “a deep or very deep” NDE. Therefore, of 509
resuscitations, 12% resulted in NDE and 8% in core experience. The
discrepancy between the numbers reflects the fact that some indivi-
70 Hans Goller
duals were resuscitated more than one time. No patients reported

distressing or frightening NDEs.
At a two-year follow-up study, 19 out of the 62 patients with
NDE had died and six refused to be interviewed. Thus, the resear-
chers were only able to interview 37 patients for the second time. All
the patients were able to retell their experiences almost exactly as
they had done two years prior. People who had a NDE showed a si-
gnificant increase in their belief in an afterlife and a decrease in
their fear of death as compared with people who did not have a
NDE.
Lommel emphasizes that the results of his study show that
medical factors cannot explain the occurrence of NDEs. Although all
patients had been clinically dead, most did not have a NDE. If
purely physiological factors resulting from cerebral anoxia cause a
NDE, most of the patients of Lommel’s study should have had this
experience. However, as only 12% of the patients recounted a NDE
the purely physical causal connection seems suspect.
“We found to our surprise that neither the duration of cardiac arrest
nor the duration of unconsciousness, nor the need for intubation in
complicated CPR, nor induced cardiac arrest in electrophysiological
stimulation (EPS) had any influence on the frequency of NDE. Neither
could we find any relationship between the frequency of NDE and
administered drugs, fear of death before the arrest, nor foreknowledge
of NDE, gender, religion, or education. An NDE was more frequently
reported at ages lower than 60 years, and also by patients who had had
more than one CPR during their hospital stay, and by patients who had
experienced an NDE previously. Patients with memory defects induced
by lengthy CPR reported less frequently an NDE. Good short-term
memory seems to be essential for remembering an NDE” (van Lommel
2006, 137).
Several theories have been proposed to explain NDEs. Van Lommel

could not show that psychological, neurophysiological, or physiolo-
gical factors caused these experiences after cardiac arrest. “With a
purely physiological explanation such as cerebral anoxia, most pa-
tients who had been clinically dead should report an NDE. All pati-
ents in our study had been unconscious because of anoxia of the

brain resulting from their cardiac arrest” (van Lommel 2006, 137).
And yet, neurophysiological processes must play some part in NDE.
OBEs can be artificially induced through electrical stimulation of the
cortex. Blanke et al. at the University Hospitals of Geneva and Lau-
sanne in Switzerland described the repeated induction of an OBE by
focal electrical stimulation of the brain’s right angular gyrus in a pa-
tient who was undergoing evaluation for epilepsy treatment. The
angular gyrus could be a crucial node in a larger neural circuit that
mediates complex own-body perception. Blancke and his colleagues
concluded, that the experience of dissociation of self from the body
may be due to the failure to integrate complex somatosensory and
vestibular information (see: Blanke et al. 2002, 269).
Near-death-like experiences may also occur after the use of
drugs like LSD, and mescaline (see: Schröter-Kunhardt 1999). These
artificially induced experiences can consist of unconsciousness, out-
of-body experiences, perceptions of light or flashes, and of recollec-
tion from the past. These recollections, however, consist of fragmen-
ted and random memories unlike the panoramic life-review that can
occur in NDE. Thus, artificially induced experiences are not identi-
cal to NDE.
Van Lommel points out: “With lack of evidence for any other
theories for NDE, the thus far assumed, but never proven, concept
that consciousness and memories are localized in the brain should
be discussed. How could a clear consciousness outside one’s body be
experienced at the moment that the brain no longer functions
during a period of clinical death with flat EEG” (van Lommel 2001,
2044).
4. When did the reported near-death-experiences exactly take place?
A crucial question is the timing of the NDE. When did the reported
NDEs actually occur? Did they really occur during the time of the
cardiac arrest, when the EEG was flat, or might they have occurred
72 Hans Goller
shortly either before cardiac arrest or during the recovery period

after successful resuscitation, with the patients thinking that the
experience had occurred during the period of their cardiac arrest?
Anecdotal reports of patients who had an OBE and were able to see,
hear, and recall specific details of what happened in the emergency
room during their cardiac arrest, can help to answer this question.
Especially, when the hospital staff or other witnesses can verify what
the patients claim to have seen and heard during their OBE.
Perceptions during OBEs can, at least in principle, be checked and
corroborated by independent witnesses. Do they consist of verifiable
accurate perceptions that would have been impossible to perceive
from the vantage point of that person’s physical body? Peter Fen-
wick calls this the “cutting edge question” in NDE research (see:
Fenwick 2007, 15).
Van Lommel underlines, that OBEs are scientifically important
because doctors, nurses, and relatives can verify the reported
perceptions, and they can also corroborate the precise moment
when the OBE occurred during the period of CPR (see: van Lommel
2006, 139). This also indicates that the reported OBEs are neither
hallucinations nor delusions. A hallucination is a conscious
perception in the absence of any external stimuli, and an illusion is a
real perception that is given bizarre significance.
In an OBE a person claims to leave her body and watch her own
resuscitation by the doctors in the emergency room. Von Lommel
reports the case in which a coronary-care nurse removed dentures
from a comatose forty-four-year-old heart-attack victim and placed
them in a drawer in the crash car. The patient was revived by CPR
(Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation) and a week later the nurse saw
him again on the cardiac ward. She reported a veridical OBE of a
resuscitated patient:
“During a night shift an ambulance brings in a 44-year-old cyanotic,

comatose man into the coronary care unit. He had been found about an
hour before in a meadow by passers-by. After admission, he receives
artificial respiration without intubation, while heart massage and
defibrillation are also applied. When we want to intubate the patient,
he turns out to have dentures in his mouth. I remove these upper

dentures and put them onto the ‘crash car’. Meanwhile, we continue
extensive CPR. After about an hour and a half the patient has sufficient
heart rhythm and blood pressure, but he is still ventilated and
intubated, and he is still comatose. He is transferred to the intensive
care unit to continue the necessary artificial respiration. Only after
more than a week do I meet again with the patient, who is by now back
on the cardiac war. I distribute his medication. The moment he sees
me he says: ‘Oh, that nurse knows where my dentures are’. I am very
surprised. Then he elucidates: ‘Yes, you were there when I was brought
into hospital and you took my dentures out of my mouth and put them
onto that car, it had all these bottles on it and there was this sliding
drawer underneath and there you put my teeth.’ I was especially
amazed because I remembered this happening while the man was in
deep coma and in the process of CPR. When I asked further, it
appeared the man had seen himself lying in bed, that he had perceived
from above how nurses and doctors had been busy with CPR. He was
also able to describe correctly and in detail the small room in which he
had been resuscitated as well as the appearance of those present like
myself. At the time that he observed the situation he had been very
much afraid that we would stop CPR and that he would die. And it is
true that we had been very negative about the patient’s prognosis due
to his very poor medical condition when admitted. The patient tells me
that he desperately and unsuccessfully tried to make it clear to us that
he was still alive and that we should continue CPR. He is deeply
impressed by his experience and says he is no longer afraid of death. 4
weeks later he left the hospital as a healthy man” (von Lommel et al.
2001, 2041).
Here is another case documented by Raymond Moody:
“Another woman had an out-ob-body experience and left the room

where her body was being resuscitated. From across the hospital lobby,
she watched her brother-in-law as some business associate approached
him and asked what he was doing in the hospital. ‘Well, I was going out
of town on a business trip’, said the brother-in-law. ‘But it looks like
June is going to kick the bucket, so I better stay around and be a
pallbearer’. A few days later when she was recovering, the brother-in-
law came to visit. She told him that she was in the room as he spoke to
his friend, and erased any doubt by saying, ‘Next time I die, you go off
on your business trip because I’ll be just fine.’ He turned so pale that
she thought he was about to have an NDE himself” (Moody 2005, 17).
74 Hans Goller
Kenneth Ring reports the case of a female migrant worker. Maria,

who, while visiting friends for the first time in Seattle, had a severe
heart attack. She was rushed to Harbor-view Hospital emergency
room and then placed in the coronary care unit. A few days later, she
had a cardiac arrest but was quickly resuscitated. She had an OBE
during her cardiac arrest and told her social worker Kimberly Clark
about it. She recalled how she was able to look down from the
ceiling and watch the medical team at work on her body. She noted
that she did not remain looking down from the ceiling, instead, she
found herself outside the hospital. On the third floor of the north
wing of the building she saw a tennis shoe on the ledge of the
building. She described the shoe in minute detail, observing that the
little toe had a worn place in the shoe and that one of its laces was
tucked underneath the heel. Finally Maria asked Clark to please try
to locate that shoe: she desperately needed to know whether she had
“really” seen it. Clark went up on the third floor of the building, but
did not find any shoe until she came to the middlemost window on
the floor, and there, on the ledge, precisely as Maria had described
it, was the tennis shoe (see: Ring 2006, 65-66).
Kenneth Ring convinced of the evidential weight of the report,
exclaims:
“Now, on hearing a case like this, one has to ask: What is the pro-
bability that a migrant worker visiting a large city for the first time,
who suffers a heart attack and is rushed to a hospital at night would,
while having a cardiac arrest, simply ‘hallucinate’ seeing a tennis
shoe—with very specific and unusual features—on the ledge of a floor
higher than her physical location in the hospital? Only an archskeptic,
I think, would say anything much other than ‘Not bloody likely’!” (Ring
2006, 66)
The case of Pamela Reynolds

The documentation of thirty-five-year-old singer and songwriter
Pam Reynolds provides us with the most scientifically corroborative
confirmation of the near-death experience (see: Sabom 1998, 37-
52). Doctors discovered a grossly swollen blood vessel in her brain
stem (a giant basilar artery aneurysm) that would kill her if it burst.
Reynolds consented to a risky operation performed by Robert Spetz-
ler in Phoenix, Arizona. Spetzler used a rare technique to treat Pam
Reynolds, called the “Hypothermic Cardiac Arrest”, or “Operation
Standstill”.
Spetzler would take Reynolds body down to a temperature so low
that she was “essentially” dead, but then would bring her back to a
normal temperature before irreversible damage set in. Pam’s
temperature fell to 60 degrees Fahrenheit (15.6 Celsius) as opposed
to the usual 98.6 degrees Fahrenheit (37 Celsius). At such a low
temperature, the swollen vessels become soft, allowing for a less
risky surgery. Also, at this temperature the cooled brain can survive
longer without oxygen, though it obviously cannot function in that
state.
When all of Reynolds’s vital signs were “stopped”, the surgeon
began to cut through her skull with a surgical saw. At that point, she
reported that she felt herself “pop” outside her body and hover abo-
ve the operating table. From her out-of-body position, she could see
the doctors working on her “lifeless” body. She described, with
considerable accuracy for a person who knew nothing of complex
surgical practices, the Midas Rex bone saw used to open skulls.
Reynolds also heard and reported what had happened during the
operation and what the nurses in the operating room had said (see:
Beauregard & O’Leary 2007, 154).
During “standstill”, Pam’s brain was found “dead” by all three
clinical tests: her electroencephalogram was silent, her brainstem
response was absent, and no blood flowed through her brain.
Interestingly, while in this state, she encountered the “deepest”
near-death experience of all Atlanta Study participants with a score
of 27 on the Greyson’s NDE Scale (see: Sabom 1998, 49).
The case of Pam Reynolds is unique for two reasons. First, she
had an OBE at a time when she was fully instrumented under
medical observation and known to be clinically dead; second, she
was able to recall verifiable facts about her surgery that she could
76 Hans Goller
not have known if she were not in some way conscious when these
events were taking place (see: Beauregard & O’Leary 2007, 155).
Sabom raises the following question:
“With this information, can we now scientifically assert that Pam was
either dead or alive during her near-death experience? Unfortunately,
no. Even if all medical tests certify her death, we would still have to
wait to see if life was restored. Since she did live, then by definition she
was never dead. Doctors can save people from death and rescue some
who are close to death, but they cannot raise people from the dead.
Conversely, if Pam had died, the tests indicating death would have
been confirmed” (Sabom 1998, 49-50).
Sabom then poses the question: When does death actually occur?
Even when a person is deemed “brain dead” by strict clinical
criteria—that is, when spontaneous movements or respiration is
absent, no response results from painful or auditory stimulation,
and no brain stem, cough, gag, or respiratory reflexes can be obser-
ved; still if brain activity can be demonstrated days later, the que-
stion is raised again whether and when, if at all, death had actually
occurred. Thus, the problem with defining the moment of death lies
not only in our lack of sufficient scientific tools, but also in our
understanding of the concept itself. There is no definable moment of
death, but only a process of dying (see: Sabom 1998, 51).
Dr. Spetzler, Pam’s surgeon, was interviewed along with Pam
and Dr. Sabom. Spetzler emphasized with regard to the Hypother-
mic Cardiac Arrest procedure, that: “If you would examine that
patient from a clinical perspective during that hour, that patient by
all definition would be dead. At this point there is no brain activity,
no blood going through the brain. Nothing, nothing, nothing.” When
asked about Pam’s near-death experience, the surgeon delicately
avoided verifying the occurrence remarking only that: “One thing
that I learned after spending so many years of dealing with the brain
is that nothing is impossible” (Sabom 1998, 50).
5. Do Out-of-body experiences occur apart from the physical body?
Is there actually something in us, which can get out, perceive, and
act apart from our body? Is the self able to perceive and experience
apart and at a distance from the physical body? In the Atlanta Study,
26 of the patients described their experience in these very terms. Is
this really possible? What does it mean to be out of one’s body? (see:
Sabom 1998, 201). Greg, a subject of the Atlanta Study, recalled his
OBE 26 years later: “As God is my witness, I was out of my body and
up by the corner ceiling of the hospital room looking down on the
situation. I was trying to figure out how I could do that—be up there
and be down there at the same time […] I thought to myself, Now
this is strange” (Sabom 1998, 202).
How can consciousness function outside of one’s body when the
brain is clinically dead? Such a brain would be like a computer that
continued to operate with its power source unplugged and its
circuits detached. It could not hallucinate, it could not do anything
at all (see: van Lommel 2006, 142). Paradoxically, OBEs do occur
during cardiac arrest when the brain no longer functions and clinical
criteria of death have been reached. These OBEs are characterized
by heightened, lucid awareness, logical thought processes and ro-
bust long term memory formation. This raises perplexing questions
with regard to our current understanding of the relationship bet-
ween consciousness and brain processes.
Sabom points out:
“Here, independent verification of the accuracy of out-of-body obser-

vations, such as Pam’s stunningly accurate description of the Midas
Rex skull saw used by her surgeon, lends support to the claim that the
experience truly occurred apart from the body. But, frustratingly, at
the same time, our scientific paradigms are not designed to entertain
such a possibility. As I have considered this conundrum over the years,
I now believe that the near-death experience occurs while the soul is
separating from the body. The spiritual mechanism of death seems
best understood as a process and not as a single definable moment”
(Sabom 1998, 202).
78 Hans Goller
Sabom speculates, that during the dying process, an in-between

state may momentarily exist where connection is still maintained
with the physical brain but where the person’s spirit or soul is in the
process of separation from the body. If the soul continues to depart,
death occurs, and physical memory ceases. If the soul returns, the
person revives and may report an out-of-body experience. But there
are still mysteries here. How the soul can “see”, a physical process
requiring the optical mechanisms of the eye, from a vantage point
distant from the body is not understood (see: Sabom 1998, 203).
Sabom draws the following conclusion from his research fin-
dings: “After more than two decades of studying the near-death
experience, this is where I end up: The NDE is a powerful spiritual
experience which causes dramatic changes in one’s behavior and be-
liefs. [...] at the point of an NDE, one’s soul is partially separated
from one’s body, being in the midst of the dying process” (Sabom
1998, 222).
6. What are the neural correlates of near-death experiences?
Neuroscientists argue that consciousness is associated with the

activity of large groups of so-called cell assemblies which are
distributed throughout the brain. Results of cerebral localization
studies using neuroimaging techniques, such as functional Magnetic
Resonance Imaging (fMRI) and Positron Emission Tomography
(PET) support this view. These studies show that mental phenome-
na like thoughts, perceptions, and feelings correlate with the meta-
bolic activity in specific regions of the brain. Changes in the type of
mental activity correlate with changes in the type of brain activity.
Without brain activity there seems to be no mental activity. The
mind appears to be rooted deep in the brain. However, up to now we
do not have the faintest clue of how billions of active neurons are
supposed to generate subjective phenomena like sensations, percep-
tions, and feelings. This puzzle constitutes one of the biggest chal-
lenges to neuroscience (see: Goller 2003).
What could the neural correlates of NDEs possibly be? Prospec-

tive studies on cardiac arrest survivors show that NDEs occur at a
time when the brain activity can be described at best as severely im-
paired, and at worst, as absent. It is known, that in cardiac arrest
loss of cortical function precedes the rapid loss of brainstem activity.
When the brain is so dysfunctional that the patient is deeply coma-
tose, the cerebral structures which underpin subjective experience
and memory must be severely impaired.
A globally disordered brain is not expected to be able to produce
coherent thought processes, together with robust long term memory
formation. The reported NDEs in cardiac arrest, however, are not
confused, disordered, chaotic, or incoherent. In fact, they indicate a
heightened awareness, attention and consciousness at a time when
one would not expect consciousness and memory formation to
occur. Any cerebral insult leads to a period of both anterograde and
retrograde amnesia. Memory can be used as a very sensitive
indicator of brain injury and the length of amnesia before and after
unconsciousness is an indicator of the severity of the brain injury.
Therefore, events that occur just prior to or just after loss of con-
sciousness would not be expected to be recalled.
Complex experiences such as those reported in NDEs and OBEs
should not arise or be retained in memory. Such patients would be
expected to have no memories at all, as is the case in most of the
cardiac arrest survivors. From a scientific point of view, the occur-
rence of these experiences would therefore seem highly improbable
and paradoxical. However, the fact that they do occur, raises some
questions regarding our current views on the nature of human
consciousness and its relationship with the brain (see: Parnia & Fen-
wick 2002, 8-9).
Van Lommel emphasizes that science should attempt to explain
new mysteries rather than stick with old facts and concepts. With
our current medical and scientific concepts it seems impossible to
explain all aspects of the subjective experiences as reported by pa-
tients with a NDE during a transient loss of all brain functions (see:
van Lommel 2006, 145).
80 Hans Goller
Most of the people who have had a NDE lose their fear of death.
According to van Lommel, this is due to the realization that there is
a continuation of consciousness. Consciousness continues and re-
tains all past thoughts and experiences, even those occurring after
you have been declared dead by a doctor. Although you are separa-
ted from your lifeless body, you retain your identity and a clear con-
sciousness with the ability to perceive. Man appears to be more than
just a ‘body’ (van Lommel 2006, 140-141).
7. What conclusions can be drawn from the available data on NDEs?
If people who have had an OBE can literally leave their bodies, then
human personality must be something distinct from the body itself.
The person who leaves her or his body and then returns to it must
be something more than just the very complex organism whose
properties are revealed by physical science. Such a person would
need to be some sort of nonphysical being that lives in the body (see:
Almeder 1992, 163).
Neuroscientists keep telling us that consciousness is totally
dependent upon a functioning brain within a functioning organism.
Without a functioning brain there is no consciousness, perception or
memory formation. According to the mainstream position in neuro-
science consciousness cannot survive brain death, because con-
sciousness ceases when brain activity ceases.
The available data on veridical perceptions during OBEs, how-
ever, contradict the claim that consciousness and memory formation
cannot occur without a functioning brain in a functioning organism.
Direct evidence of how neural networks produce the subjective
aspects of mental phenomena is still lacking. It is difficult to under-
stand, how patterns of neural activation could themselves cause the
qualitatively experienced aspects of sensations, perceptions, and
feelings (see: van Lommel 2006, 143).
The existing research findings on OBEs suggest that conscious-
ness may be experienced independently of a functioning brain. If the
findings on veridical perceptions during OBEs can be confirmed by

numerous further studies under controlled conditions, then that
would support alternative interpretations of the widely held credos
about the mind-body relationship in contemporary neuroscience. It
would, for example, support the view, that consciousness may actu-
ally be a fundamental entity in its own right irreducible to anything
more basic (see: Parnia & Fenwick 2002, 9; Chalmers 1996). It
would also support the conviction that mind, consciousness, and self
can continue when the brain no longer functions (see: Beauregard
2007, 166).
Nevertheless, I think the available data on NDEs and OBEs
cannot be regarded as scientific evidence for the existence of the
soul. The existence of something invisible and immaterial like the
soul cannot, by definition, be demonstrated or proven empirically by
applying the scientific methods commonly used in neuroscience.
Further, all the existing accounts of NDEs and OBEs come from
people who were very close to death, but who were successfully
resuscitated. Their narratives are reports about the process of dying,
about the experience of being close to death, not about death itself.
In spite of that, some authors interpret these reports as a glimpse
into life after death, as a view of the other ‘world’. While the re-
search findings on NDEs and OBEs fail to conclusively prove our
survival of death, nonetheless, they seem to justify a rational belief
in some form of postmortem personal survival.
References
Almeder, R. (1992) Death and personal survival. The evidence for

life after death, Lanham, Maryland: Rowman & Littlefield
Publishers.
Beauregard, M. & O’Leary, D. (2007) The spiritual brain. A
neuroscientist’s case for the existence of the soul, New York:
HarperCollins Publishers.
82 Hans Goller
Blanke, O., Ortigue, St., Landis, T. & Seeck, M. (2002) “Stimulating

illusory own-body perceptions”, Nature 419, 269-270.
Blanke, O., Landis, T., Spinelli, L. & Seeck, M. (2004) “Out-of-body
experience and autoscopy of neurological origin”, Brain 127, 243-
258.
Blanke, O. & Arzy, S. (2005) “The out-of-body experience. Disturbed
self-processing at the temporo-parietal junction”, The Neuro-
scientist 11, 16-24.
Blanke, O., Mohr, C., Michel, C. M., Pascual-Leone, A., Brugger, P.,
Seeck, M., Landis, T., & Thut, G. (2005) “Linking out-of-body
experience and self processing to mental own-body imagery and
the temporoparietal junction”, Journal of Neuroscience 25, 550-
557.
Chalmers, D. J. (1996) The conscious mind. In search of a
fundamental theory, New York, Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Ehrsson, H. H. (2007) “The experimental induction of out-of-body
experiences”, Science 317, no. 5841, 1048.
Fenwick, P. & Fenwick, E. (1996) The truth in the light: An
investigation of over 300 near-death experiences, New York: NY
Penguin.
Fenwick, P. (2007) Science and spirituality: A challenge for the 21st
century. The Bruce Greyson Lecture from the International
Association for Near-Death Studies 2004 Annual Conference,
available at:
http://www.iands.org/research/important_studies/dr._peter_
fenwick_m.d._science_and_spirituality.html
French, Ch. C. (2001) “Dying to know the truth: visions of a dying
brain, or false memories?”, The Lancet 358, 2010-2011.
Goller, H. (2003) Das Rätsel von Körper und Geist. Eine
philosophische Deutung, Darmstadt: Primus Verlag.
Greyson, B. (1983) “The near-death experience scale: Construction,
reliability, and validity”, Journal of Nervous and Mental Disease
171, 369-375.
Greyson, B. (2000) “Dissociation in people who have near-death

experiences: out of their bodies or out of their minds?”, The
Lancet 355, 460-463.
Greyson, B. (2003) “Incidence and correlates of near-death
experiences on a cardiac care unit”, General Hospital Psychiatry
25, 269-276.
Greyson, B. (2007) “Near-death experiences: clinical implications”,
Revista de Psiquiatria Clínica 34, supl. 1, 49-57.
Knoblauch, H. (2002) Berichte aus dem Jenseits. Mythos und
Realität der Nahtod-Erfahrung, Freiburg: Herder.
Knoblauch, H. & Schmied, I. (1999) „Berichte aus dem Jenseits.
Eine qualitative Studie zu Todesnäheerfahrungen im deutschen
Sprachraum“, in H. Knoblauch & H.-G. Soeffner (Hrsg.),
Todesnähe. Interdisziplinäre Zugänge zu einem außergewöhnli-
chen Phänomen, Konstanz: UVK, 187-215.
Knoblauch, H. & Soeffner H.-G. (Hrsg.) (1999) Todesnähe. Interdis-
ziplinäre Zugänge zu einem außergewöhnlichen Phänomen, Kon-
stanz: UKV.
Moody, R. A. (1975, 1976) Life after life. The investigation of a
phenomenon—survival of bodily death, Mockingbird edition,
Covington, Georgia 1975, Bantam edition, New York 1976.
Moody, R. A. (2003) Leben nach dem Tod. Die Erforschung einer
unerklärlichen Erfahrung (4. Aufl.), Reinbeck bei Hamburg:
Rowohlt.
Moody, R. A. (2005) The light beyond. The extraordinary sequel to
the classic bestseller Life After Life, London: Rider.
Parnia, S., & Fenwick, P. (2002) “Near-death experiences in cardiac
arrest: visions of a dying brain or visions of a new science of
consciousness”, Resuscitation 52, 5-11.
Parnia, S., Waller, D. G., Yeates, R. & Fenwick, P. (2001) “A
qualitative and quantitative study of the incidence, features and
aetiology of near death experiences in cardiac arrest survivors”,
Resuscitation 48, 149-156.
84 Hans Goller
Ring, K. & Cooper, S. (1997) “Near-death and out-of-body experi-

ences in the blind: A study of apparent eyeless vision”, Journal of
Near-Death Studies 16 (2), 101-147.
Ring, K. (2006) Lessons from the light. What we can learn from the
near-death experience, Needham, Massachusetts: Moment Point
Press.
Sabom, M. (1982) Recollections of death: A medical investigation,
New York: Harper and Row.
Sabom, M. (1998) Light and death: One doctor’s fascinating account
of near-death experiences, Grand Rapids, Michigan: Zondervan.
Schmied, I., Knoblauch, H. & Schnettler, B. (1999) “Todesnähe-
erfahrungen in Ost- und Westdeutschland. Eine empirische
Untersuchung”, in H. Knoblauch & H.-G. Soeffner (Hrsg.), Todes-
nähe. Interdisziplinäre Zugänge zu einem außergewöhnlichen
Phänomen, Konstanz: UVK, 217-250.
Schröter-Kunhardt, M. (1999) “Nah-Todeserfahrungen aus psychi-
atrisch-neurologischer Sicht”, in H. Knoblauch & H.-G. Soeffner
(Hrsg.), Todesnähe. Interdisziplinäre Zugänge zu einem außerge-
wöhnlichen Phänomen, Konstanz: UVK, 65-99.
van Lommel, P., Wees, R., Meyers, V. & Elfferich, I. (2001) “Near-
death experience in survivors of cardiac arrest: a prospective
study in the Netherlands”, The Lancet 358, 2039-2045.
van Lommel, P. (2004) “About the continuity of our consciousness”,
Advances in Experimental Medicine and Biology 550, 115-132.
van Lommel, P. (2006) “Near-Death experience, consciousness, and
the brain: A new concept about the continuity of our conscious-
ness based on recent scientific research on near-death experience
in survivors of cardiac arrest”, World Futures: The Journal of
General Evolution 62, 134-151.
van Lommel, P. (2007) Eindeloos bewustzijn. Een wetenschappelij-
ke visie op de bijna-dood ervaring, Uitgeverlij Ten Have.
The Immateriality of the Human Soul—
An argument of Ayatullah Misbah, its roots in
Mulla Sadra, and its correspondence in Western
Philosophy
Christian Kanzian, Innsbruck
(0) Philosophical reasoning about man in Islamic and in Western-

Christian traditions has the same main questions and also the same
main problems. And this is not accidental. The last aim of “philoso-
phical anthropology” in both traditions is to understand man as the
proper object of eschatological hopes. A central concept of every
philosophical theory about man developed in religious contexts—
that is, in the context of eschatological hopes—is “soul”. Therefore
“soul” is a topic that is perfectly suitable for doing comparative phi-
losophy. “Human soul” (and in what follows I don’t care about pure-
ly vegetative and animal souls, and mean by “soul” always “human
soul”) in religious traditions stands for an immortal live principle.
Soul survives physical death. Many assume that this is a necessary
condition for understanding human beings as objects of eschatologi-
cal hopes, as bodily resurrection is. One of the minimal precondi-
tions of the soul as immortal or indestructible live principle is im-
materiality—without immateriality no immortality.
In my talk I am looking for a philosophical framework for such a
religious anthropology in a comparative way. My main focus (as the
title of my article indicates) is on arguments for the immateriality of
the soul. I start with one of the arguments for the immateriality of
the soul given by Ayatullah Misbah in his Philosophical Instructions
(here: Misbah Yazdi 1999), and try to explain why I think that the
argument can be traced back to Mulla Sadra. Then I turn to Western
Philosophy, where we can find in the history—I focus especially on
Kant—lines of argumentation that can be compared with those of
Mulla Sadra and Ayatullah Misbah. These lines are, as I want to
mention finally, important for contemporary discussions in the
metaphysics of human beings. The common line of argumentation
86 Christian Kanzian
for the immateriality of the human soul may perhaps guide us to an

understanding of its immortality, and of the resurrection of the
whole human being.
(1) Beginning with Ayatullah Misbah, let me start with a quotation

of a passage in Misbah Yazdi 1999, lesson 44 (“Kinds of Sub-
stances”), section two, “Proofs for the Immateriality of the Soul”. (I
refer to the second:)
Another argument for the immateriality of the soul is that when we pay
precise attention to our own existence, the ‘I, the perceiver,’ we see that
the existence of ‘I’ is a simple indivisible thing. For example, it cannot
be divided into two ‘half I’s’, while the most fundamental characteristic
of body is divisibility […]. However, such a characteristic cannot be
found in the soul, and it is not subject to the body in being divisible, so
there is no other alternative but its immateriality (ibid. , 368).
The passage does not require of further explanation: Ayatullah Mis-

bah explicitly starts with the I—the I, mind you, as perceiver. Hu-
man perception has a special characteristic: It has a significant uni-
ty. And the only possible bearer of such a unified perception or act
of consciousness is the I, which must also be a unity, and as such
simple, that means in its identity not analysable and thus not recon-
structable from a diversity of basic constituents. Since materiality
necessarily implies complexity, the I or the self cannot be material.
For exactly whatever the term “soul” may stand: for I, for the self,
the bearer and principle of all human capacities, of human percep-
tion included, it must share the demonstrated metaphysical charac-
teristics: unity, simplicity, and thus immateriality.
(2) I come to my next step and try to refer this line of argumentation
for the immateriality of the soul to classical Islamic Philosophy, that
is, to Mulla Sadra. Of great help for me has been Ayatullah
Muhammad Khamenei’s book on “Transcendent Philosophy” (here:
Khamenei 2004). I especially refer to the chapter “Soul—Eschato-
logy”. (Here I cannot deal with Mulla Sadra’s metaphysics of the
soul in general: about the corporal origination of the soul, its
The Immateriality of the Human Soul 87
developing from the stage of pure materiality, over the vegetative

stage and the animal stage to the stage of rational human soul, with
the possibility of reaching the stage of actual intellect, as Ayatullah
Khamenei says: of the holy soul. Here is also not the place to talk
about Mulla Sadra’s metaphysical principles which are the prerequi-
sites for an adequate understanding of this kind of diachronic
dualism: the principle of the priority of existence and the dynamical
mode of existence itself, the last metaphysical ground of what is also
called substantial motion. However: The soul is, according to Mulla
Sadra no static subject.)
What I want to point out is a terminological point and an argu-
mentative one: The terminological point is that according to Mulla
Sadra, as Ayatullah Khamenei makes us aware of, we clearly can
identify man’s soul with the above mentioned I or self. “Man’s soul
is his very ‘I’ and ‘self’” (Khamenei 2004, 102). This identification
can be interpreted as the legitimation to transfer all the basic cha-
racteristics of the I or the self to the life principle which is called in
classical philosophy “soul”. That seems to be important, because, if
we are able to prove some characteristics for the I and the self, we
can transfer, according to this terminological stipulation, these cha-
racteristics to the life principle in question. (This is also a
confirmation of what I have stated above concerning the quoted pas-
sages in the Philosophical Instructions.)
I proceed to the argument, which I try to reconstruct with re-
ference to passages included in point 3 and 4, Khamenei 2004, 103.
All man’s internal and external effects and acts belong to his ‘self’
and soul and originate from it. The unity, which is specific to human
effects and acts, is derived from the unity of their bearer. The unity
of the human self is so basic that it must be regarded as a simple, in-
divisible, and, I would add, unanalysable subject. (Without such
simplicity and indivisibility we could not get a unity which can be
regarded as bearer of specifically unified human acts.)
Every body or corporal thing is made of matter. Essential for
matter is extension. Whatever has an extension is composed of
several components. Every body is a complex, thus divisible, and, I
would add, analysable with reference to its parts, which can thus be
interpreted as basic and constitutive elements of the complex. Such

a composition is necessary (and sufficient) for corporality. The self
or the I doesn’t have such a composition. That is why the self or the I
cannot be corporal.
If we identity the life principle called soul with the self or the I,
we can transfer, in accordance with the mentioned terminological
stipulation, these characteristics to the soul. The soul as simple, in-
divisible and unanalysable life principle is immaterial. Taking into
account the before mentioned dynamic view of human souls, we can
make the thesis more precise: The human soul at a mature stage has
developed to a non-corporal or non-material kind of existence. The
soul achieved independence of its corporal origins. That can be
proved by reference to the specific unity of rational acts, which the
matured soul is able to bear.
(3) So far I have examined classical and contemporary Islamic Phi-

losophy, and a line of argumentation, which seems to be of some
importance for proving the immateriality of the soul. I proceed by
turning to Western Philosophy, some would say to Continental
Philosophy: Immanuel Kant. In Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason we
find an argument, which can be analysed in a way very similar to
what we have heard now about Mulla Sadra. I start with Kant, and
refer his argumentation to contemporary philosophy.
Just to mention it: I cannot speak about Kant’s philosophy in
general, especially not whether it is exegetically correct to use the
argument I am going to discuss for a theory of metaphysical charac-
teristics of the self, the I, the soul. Indeed, the author of the Critique
of Pure Reason would deny that emphatically. But, as Kant himself
claims to understand historical authors, such as Plato, better than
they understood themselves (cf. ibid. B 370), we can try to under-
stand Kant in a free, but systematic way—without any claim of exe-
getical correctness.
I quote the relevant passage in the Critique of Pure Reason:
Every composite substance is an aggregate of several substances, and

the action of a composite, or whatever inheres in it as thus composite,
is an aggregate of several actions or accidents, distributed among the
plurality of the substances. Now an effect which arises from the
concurrence of many acting substances is indeed possible, namely,
when the effect is external only […]. But with thoughts, as internal
accidents belonging to a thinking being, it is different. For suppose it
be the composite that thinks: then every part of it would be a part of
the thought, and only all of them taken together would be the whole
thought. But this cannot consistently be maintained. For repre-
sentations […] distributed among different beings, never make up a
whole thought […] and it is therefore impossible that a thought should
inhere in what is essentially composite. It is therefore possible only in a
single substance, which, not being an aggregate of many, is absolutely
simple (A 352).
Kant starts, as the quoted Islamic thinkers do, with an important

characteristic of human perceptions or of human thoughts, as Kant
says. Human thoughts are wholes, which must be considered as uni-
ties in a specifically strict sense. They are the results of the different
unifying human capacities, which are distinguished in Kant’s Criti-
que of Pure Reason extensively. I leave aside Kant’s much differenti-
ated rational psychology. I just mention the Transcendental Apper-
ception or the Unity of Self-Consciousness as the core capacity,
responsible for the unification of “thoughts”.
The next step is more important and very close to Ayatullah Mis-
bah and to Mulla Sadra, as I interpret him according to Ayatullah
Khamenei: human thoughts must belong to a bearer, which is able
to constitute the mentioned unity of these thoughts. The bearer of
human thoughts must be a unity in a strict sense. It must be simple,
undividable and unanalysable. Kant's argument is that if it is sup-
posed that the non-simple, the composite thinks, then every part of
it would be a part of the thought, and only all of them taken together
would be the whole thought. But this cannot consistently be main-
tained.
I see no difference with the arguments mentioned above in the

context of Islamic Philosophy.1 The same holds for the result, na-
mely, since it is essential for corporal beings to be complex, divi-
dable into parts, and being analysable as components of these parts,
the bearer of human thoughts, the I or the self, cannot be corporal.
(4) (Historical excursus) Historically considered, I interpret Kant’s

argumentation as a reaction to the problems of John Locke’s ac-
count on the self or on personal identity. In the famous chapter 27 of
his An Essay Concerning Human Understanding, Locke starts with
self-consciousness, and deduces the self and the identity of the self
from this capacity. The identity of a person reaches as far as his self-
consciousness. According to Locke, I, Kanzian, am identical with
myself five years ago because I, now, am conscious of myself for
instance as participant of the last Mulla Sadra World Congress 2004
in Tehran. Kant takes it the other way round. He assumes the iden-
tity of the self as the last ground of the unity of personal self-con-
sciousness, and in consequence to all human thoughts (which are
necessarily self thoughts).
With this strategy Kant can immunize his theory against Bishop
Butler’s (1692-1752) criticism addressed to Locke, that self-con-
sciousness may be a(n) (epistemic) criterion of personal identity,
but no (metaphysical) ground for it—because self-consciousness
presupposes personal identity and is thus no candidate for its con-
stitution (cf. his Of Personal Identity, re-edited in Perry 1975). In
Kant exactly that is the case. Also Thomas Reid’s (1710-1796) argu-
ment based upon the transitivity of identity is a good argument
1 Professor Ali Misbah made me aware that in Mulla Sadra, and his followers
in Islamic Philosophy, the simplicity and undividability of the bearer of
human “thoughts” can be recognized by “knowledge by presence”, while in
Kant, just to mention him, this recognition is the result of a “transcenden-
tal” procedure of looking for conditions of the possibility of our thoughts’
unity. I concede the point. Perhaps I should better say I see no difference in
the metaphysical results of the arguments for the simplicity of the soul,
though there are some differences in the epistemological access to these re-
sults.
against Locke, but not against Kant (cf. his Essays on the Intellectual
Powers of Man, re-edited in Perry 1975). The reader may know the
story of the brave soldier who was flogged when a boy at school, who
took a standard from the enemy in one of his first campaigns, and
was promoted to be general, advanced in years. Since the general
remembers the taking of the standard as one of his actions, and the
young soldier remembers being flogged as something that happened
to himself, but the general has no self remembering of his school-
time, the general would be, according to Locke, identical with the
young soldier, the young soldier with the school boy, but the general
not with the school boy. This is impossible with regard to the stan-
dard interpretation of identity as transitive relation, but follows
from the Lockean theory of self or personal identity. We must come
to the conclusion: either logic or Locke! Kant has no problem with
the transitivity of identity. The self or the I as simple bearer of the
unity of consciousness and in consequence of all self thoughts is
always the same, independent of the actual capacity of remember-
ring: it is the same of the boy, of the young soldier, and of the gene-
ral in Reid’s story.
(5) However, let me switch to a modern version of Kant’s argument,

which is explicitly considered as the “Unity of Consciousness”-
argument. I refer to William Hasker’s book The Emergent Self (here
Hasker 2001), not because I think that all of Hasker’s theses are
adequate (“emergentism” itself seems to be more an explanandum
than a solution of any problem), but because in one of his
preliminary chapters he refers to Kant as we did before, and makes
the decisive point discussable in the terminological context of actual
debates. I start with a quotation of a passage in Hasker’s book:
The point is simply that […] awareness […] is essentially unitary, and it
makes no sense to suggest that it may be ‘parcelled out’ to entities each
of which does not have the awareness. A person’s being aware of a
complex fact cannot consist of parts of the person being aware of the
fact. A conjunction of partial awareness does not add up to a total
awareness (Hasker 2001, 128, emph. H.).
How can we understand Hasker’s point?—Hasker starts by conside-

ring a complex visual field. According to materialistic interpreta-
tions of such a state of consciousness (as well as of others, like
perceptions and the content of thoughts in general) the subject or
the bearer of them is something bodily: the brain. The brain is
aware. The brain perceives. The brain thinks.—This is materialism.
Hasker is arguing against such a point of view: Let us imagine the
smallest part of the brain (Hasker calls it “V”), that contains the
modelling of all the information, for example, of the mentioned
visual field. Is it possible to say that this smallest part is aware of the
complex visual field?—
Perhaps so, but we need to consider the composition of V […] we can

say that V is a whole composed of physical parts. Many of these parts
model information from various parts of the visual field. But no proper
part of V models all of this information, so it is not possible for any of
these parts to be aware of the entire visual field. But if V is a whole
composed of parts each of which is not aware of the visual field, how
can V itself be aware of it? [Hasker illustrates his points:] […] this
would be like saying that each student in a class knows the answer to
one question on an examination, and that in virtue of this the entire
class knows the material perfectly! It is true that the members of the
class are able, working together, to reproduce all of the information,
but there may in fact be no one at all who knows or is aware of all of it
(ibid.).
In conclusion, it is false to say that the brain or a part of it is aware

of something, perceives, and thinks. Awareness, states of conscious-
ness better to say, are essentially unitary. Something essentially
unitary cannot inhere in something non-unitary or in something
complex, as the brain is. Consciousness, I would restrict myself to
saying human consciousness, must be grounded in something non-
complex, that means in a simple unity. Another quotation: “[…] that
in fact […] [an] experience inheres in a number of different entities
(brain-parts), each of which does not have that experience as a
whole—is I think simply unintelligible“ (Hasker 2001, 134).
The result of Hasker’s analysis is very well comparable with the

result of Kant’s consideration, and with the results of the Islamic
thinkers to which I referred above: the bearer of our states of con-
sciousness must be a simple unanalysable unity. Because this rules
out the material constitution of the bearer, it must be immaterial,
however we call it: I, self, or soul.
(6) Finally I want to reflect on the relevance and on some cones-

quences of these considerations for the metaphysics of human be-
ings. I have two remarks, and brief discussions of both of them.
The first remark: The proper aim of all the reported arguments is
anti-materialism, that is, the immateriality of the human soul. As I
mentioned at the beginning, it is important to recognize immate-
riality as a necessary (or minimal), but not sufficient condition, for
immortality. Thus, immateriality is not enough for us, if we want a
metaphysics of human beings suitable for our religious, especially
our eschatological perspectives.
The second remark, perhaps more consoling: The assertion of
the immateriality of the soul as it is argued here does not commit
one to any kind of strict or substance-dualism in a Cartesian style.
That means we are open to find a philosophical anthropology that is
not materialistic but also not paralysed by the problems of Cartesia-
nism.
I come back to my first remark: An argument in the style of a
Unity of Consciousness-argument is not sufficient for a proof of the
immortality of the soul. But I think it is a good starting point for
such a proof. The acceptance of a simple unanalysable subject of hu-
man consciousness raises the question of how we might understand
the (natural) destruction of such a subject. (“Natural” stands in
opposition to “supernatural”, as the extinction of the soul by God
would be. Leibniz introduces this distinction in his Monadology,
points 5 and 6.) Natural destruction is dissolution into constituting
elements. To destruct this chair means its dissolution into some
pieces of wood and metal. The destruction or the bringing to death
of an organism means the dissolution of its corporal parts to such an
extent that these constituents loose their unity. If something has no
constituting elements, no parts at all, its destruction is impossible.

From the impossibility of the natural destruction of something we
can deduce its natural indestructibility or immortality. In the history
of philosophy we find prominent authors, from Plato (e.g., in his
Phaidon, third argument) to Leibniz, who took this way to prove the
immortality of the soul, that means the survival of the human soul
after bodily death. My thesis: They all stick, sometimes implicitly, to
a kind of Unity of Consciousness-argument to get the decisive
premise for such a proof, which is the absolute simplicity of the soul.
I finally come to a brief comment on my second remark. Our ar-
gumentation does not commit us to Cartesian Dualism. Thus it is
open for all those metaphysical interpretations of human beings that
rely on the acceptance of some immaterial constituents. According
to my own conviction, the immaterial constituent in question should
be interpreted as a part of the specific human individual form,
which, together with the individual material aspect, constitutes the
whole existent: the human being. This part of the human individual
form is immaterial and immortal, but metaphysically it is consi-
dered incomplete (because of its status as part and because of its
status as part of a form) without the unity of the whole human be-
ing. That is why we can understand the need for the resurrection of
the whole human being, not only of the immortality of its individual
form. But of course, to explain this would be too much for this oc-
casion.
What I want to point out here is that, as I mentioned at the begin-

ning, philosophical anthropology in Islamic and in Western traditi-
ons is not only very similar in its main questions and its theoretical
aims, but also in central lines of argumentation in favour of the
immateriality, and, in consequence, of the immortality of the soul.
Summing up I will try to present the structure of an argument,
which partly (1-5, Concl.I) relies upon the common line of
argumentation in all the theory-parts I mentioned in this paper, and
partly (Concl.II, via 6) can be deduced from this line. 7 needs some
additional premises to lead us to further conclusions, but should be
recognized (also without these premises) as compatible with 2,3,4,6.
1 Human “thoughts” are wholes with a specific unity.

2 Human “thoughts” need a bearer.
3 The bearer must be able to constitute this unity.
4 A bearer able to constitute this specific unity must be simple
(non-complex).
5 Complexity is necessary for materiality.
Concl.I Human “thoughts” need an immaterial bearer.
(Outlook on a theory of the immortality of the soul:)

6 Something simple (non-complex) cannot be destroyed in a
natural way.
Concl.II Natural destruction of simple (non-complex) bearers of
human “thoughts” is impossible.
7 Incompleteness is an essential characteristic of the simple,

indestructible bearer.
Our traditions are similar, and we can profit mutually from one ano-
ther’s efforts to develop a religious anthropology. And this is
interesting and worth examining with more scrutiny than I can offer
here on this occasion.
References
Hasker, R.W. (2001) The Emergent Self, Ithaca: Cornell University

Press.
Khamenei, M. (2004) Mulla Sadra’s Transcendent Philosophy,
Tehran: SIPRIn Publication.
Misbah Yazdi (1999) Philosophical Instructions, transl. by M.
Legenhausen & A. Sarvdalir, Binghamton: Global Publications.
Perry, J. (ed.) (1975) Personal Identity, Berkeley: University of
California Press.
Becoming Transcendent:
Remarks on the Human Soul in the
Philosophy of Illumination
Mahmoud Khatami, Tehran
1. Introduction
In the Illuminative tradition of Persian thought one finds the notion

of man linked to a metaphysics of descending and ascending. As for
the former, descending down from the perfect zenith of being (God),
man is a comprehensive totality, a macrocosm within which and
through which the world is created; while as for the latter, ascending
up to that zenith (God), he is a singular individual, a microcosm
shattered and fallen from his celestial status, which is pure light, to
the earthy appearance which is the darkness of the earthy prison
(Sohravardi 1977b, 274-297). The course of exile and expulsion
which is called the Fall (hubūṭ) is the ontological dialectic process of
becoming and being human (Mulla Sadra 1362-68/1983-89, Vol.4,
135-36). This is a hermeneutic understanding of the following
Qur’anic verses: Verily, We created man of the best constitution;
then We descended him to the lowest of the low level. (95: 4-5).
What facilitates it and makes this dialectic flexible is but a very spe-
cific creature with a twofold immaterial-material essence that mir-
rors his creator who is immaterial but creates the material world
entirely. This creature is the human image (al-ṣūrah al-insanī),
which is the truth of the human being substantiated as the soul
(nafs) that still has the color of the divine essence (al-nafhat al-ilāhī)
within him. The word “soul” (nafs) has a complicated usage in the
Illuminative texts. Thanks to the mystical spirit of this tradition, this
word is used in a purely immaterial sense; in this sense it equals
“spirit” (rūḥ), and is restricted to the human being; meanwhile, it is
also used in a general sense which includes vegetative and animal
faculties and not purely the divine and immaterial (see Mulla Sadra
98 Mahmoud Khatami
1981a, Vol. 4, 1-2). In terms of its divine essence and its descending
status, this creature is named “the grand spirit (al-rūḥ al-‘aẓam)”
(Mulla Sadra 1362-68/1983-89, Vol. 5, 398), “the first issued (al-
ṣādir al-awwal)” (Mulla Sadra 1354/1975a, 188-192), “the first In-
tellect (al-‘aql al-awwal)” (Mulla Sadra 1362-68/1983-89, Vol. 5,
398), “the Muhammadian truth (al-ḥaqīqah al-Muhammadiyyah)”
(Mulla Sadra 1362-68/1983-89, Vol.5, 398, 128), and “the divine
image”(al-ṣūrah al-ilāhī) (Mulla Sadra 1368/1989, Vol. 5, 19, 22),
while with regard to the ascending status, it is named “the human
spirit (al-rūḥ al-insānī)” (Mulla Sadra 1360/1981c, 9, 4; also: 105),
“the latter divine Intellect” (al-‘aql al-akhīr al-rabbānī) (Mulla Sadra
1362-68/1983-89, Vol. 5, 398), and “the human image (al-ṣūrat al-
insān)” (Mulla Sadra 1362-68/1983-89, Vol. 3, 67,). I would like
here to highlight first the former aspect of this notion, which is the
source of the latter, and then consider the metaphysics of the latter
in the development of the illuminative role of the heart in the ascent
of the human soul and its becoming transcendent.
2. The Ascending Human Soul
According to the philosophy of the Illumination, the illuminative

man, being the vicegerent of God (khalifat Allaah), is both all in all
and nothing in anything, named infinitely and infinitely nameless,
everywhere and nowhere, illuminating all and beyond all in a bril-
liant darkness (Mulla Sadra 2007, 51; Āmulī 1368/1989a, 134-35).
As developed by the Illuminative thought, this metaphysics seeks to
indicate that, divinely made, the human being is a unitary light
whose truth is tashkīkī (graduated, having degrees) in the sense that
it is distinct precisely by its indistinction, different thanks to its in-
difference, absent in its presence—in short, transcendent through its
incomprehensible immanence (Mulla Sadra 1362-68/1983-89, Vol.
4, 180). This is the core metaphysics of the Illuminative interpreta-
tion of the human being; and it stands very clearly in line with a
two-leveled descent of the divine: from itself into itself, as though
Becoming Transcendent 99
from nothing into something (Rāzī (1365/1986), 157), which struc-

tures the overall metaphysics of procession, return, and remaining.
According to the Illuminative metaphysics, in a first moment the
super-essential God descends into intelligible images (called “the
fixed objects (al-a’yān al-thābitah)” in the terminology of the phi-
losophy of the Illumination) of all things, which God generates
within Himself through His Imaginary domain, which is the begin-
ning of all Being, Life and Intelligence. The term “fixed objects”,
created by Ibn ‘Arabi, was employed and developed in the later pe-
riod of the Illuminative philosophy including Mulla Sadra’s school.
(For a discussion of the fixed objects and its mystical structure see
Khatami 1385/2006). This is the moment that is called “the most
sacred grace (al-fayḍ al-aqdas)” within which the human theophanic
image is created, (again in terminology taken from Ibn ‘Arabi). In a
second moment that is called “the sacred grace (al-fayḍ al-
muqaddas)”, God manifests the effects created through the human
theophanic image within the world, which is both intelligible and
sensible, and gives the proper existence to each human being ac-
cording to its requirements. This intermediate status of the human
being constitutes its essence as the integration of the divine inward
(bāṭin) as well as outward (ẓāhir) names (Khārazmī 1380, 427).
Thus, the human being is the comprehensive soul (al-nafs al-
kuliyyah) emanated from God while intersticed between the divine
and the worldly realities (Āmulī 1368/1989b, 93-4). The situation of
the human soul that is generated as a divine image, is elucidated
through the Qur’anic verse laysa ka-mithlihī shay (42: 11), which
is generally interpreted as “There is nothing that is His like”, but is
more precisely interpreted as “There is nothing as His like”, which
admits the existence of a being similar to God, which no other crea-
ture resembles (Ibn ‘Arabi 1293/1876, Vol. 2, 458-59). This being is
the illuminative man, who faces, and mirrors, God the eternal but
not created, on the one hand, and the world, the created but not
eternal, on the other. Man alone is both eternal and created. (Mulla
Sadra 1362-68/1983-89, Vol. 2, 11, 12).
Man was created as God's vicegerent (khalifat Allah) while the
entire world is a particularization of what exists in him. (Mulla
100 Mahmoud Khatami
Sadra 1362-68/1983-89, Vol. 5, 350; also 410; Mulla Sadra

1368/1989, 19). The world was thus created through man and for
man, even though in the visible world man appeared last. The illu-
minative man is similar (mithl) to God, and the example (mathal) in
whose form God was determined (for details see Jilī, 1981, 207ff.).
The illuminative man, in his capacity as God's vicegerent, like Him
can create by uttering the command "be", is keen on exhibiting his
ability to control nature, and exhorts people to worship God and
hand over their property to Him. Thanks to his intermediate positi-
on between God and the world in the one Being, the status of the il-
luminative man may be further examined from the quasi-comple-
mentary divine and worldly points of view (Ibn ‘Arabi 1293/1876,
Vol. 2, 458ff.). From the divine point of view, the position of the illu-
minative man in the one Being is presented through an exploration
of the process of creation. In His unfathomable Self, God perceived
Himself by Himself in the perfection of His essence. He then desired
to perceive His perfection through His names, though these are de-
termined only by their effects. He consequently manifested Himself
in the form of the Universal Intellect (al-‘Aql al-kullī), (Jilī 1981,
163ff.) in which the general image of all things was decreed in accor-
dance with God's absolute Imagination (al-khiyāl al-munfaṣil) of it
(Jilī 1981, 177). Through this manifestation the divine Self became
reflected in reverse as in a mirror. God then turned to this mirror
with His face, the inner reality of every thing, and in this way the
particular things became externally manifested. (Jilī 1981, 182ff.).
When God perceived Himself in this mirror, namely in His image
as the illuminative man, He saw determinations and definitions
which He could not perceive when being in Himself, though in real-
ity all of them exist only in Him (Mulla Sadra 1362-68/1983-89, Vol.
4, 135; also Vol.5, 120) The creation of the illuminative man, who
reflects the image and inner harmony of the entire universe, is the
polishing of the mirror and the forming of a spirit for the world
(Āmulī 1368/1989a, 380).
From the earthly point of view, the divinity of the illuminative
man is derived from his comprehension of all the divine names that
were aimed toward the world, the only, though important, exception
being that of the necessarily existent. While every other creature

reflects one divine name, in man all the names are epitomized in the
most exalted God (Ibn Arabi 1293/1876, Vol.2, 237). It is from such
a point of view that the illuminative man is regarded as the locus of
God's manifestation, while the illuminative man is, at the same time,
regarded as the locus of manifestation of all the realities of the
world. From here it follows that in this state, man parallels the im-
age of God, in Whose image (‘ala ṣūratihi) he was created as His
Exalted Face (wajheh-el 'ulyaa). (See Suhravardi 1976, 294-96; Ibn
Arabi 1946, Faṣṣ 1, Faṣṣ 25.) Moreover, from this worldly point of
view, it is the cognitive capacity of the human soul, as the essence of
the universe that determines the image of God (Āmulī 1368/1989b,
94), and at this point, the indispensable and very powerful anthro-
pological dimension of Illuminative thought becomes quite clear.
This Illuminative notion of man maintains that in himself, and as
the divine example, the human reality is invisible and incomprehen-
sible. However, the illuminative man becomes both manifest and
comprehensible by certain signs when he is materialized in various
sorts of individual bodies (Mulla Sadra 1981a, Vol.9, 68); and while
he becomes externally apparent in this way, he still remains inter-
nally invisible, and while he breaks out into various figures compre-
hensible to the senses, he never abandons the incomprehensible
state of his essence.
Having this interpretation of human being in perspective, Illumi-
native thought seeks a way to elucidate the logic of human transcen-
dence and to free the human soul from spiritual externalization and
material realization in this physical world which is but a lower level
of Being, and, metaphorically speaking, a dark prison and black hole
(Suhravardi 1977b).
3. Metaphysics of the Ascending Soul
Significantly enough, this tradition finds in Mulla Sadra’s transcen-

dent school an innovative justification for liberty of the human soul
from this prison and its ascent towards the real position. Sadra
102 Mahmoud Khatami
holds that, being an exclusive image of God, the human soul is an

imaginal isthmus that bridges up the upper level of being with the
lower level (Mulla Sadra 1981a, Vol. 1, 265; Mulla Sadra
1362/1983a, 222);and being transcendent as belonging to the upper
level, the human soul, however, appears as materialized in sorts of
individual bodies and particular identities in this physical world and
the lower level of Being to upgrade the material. Sadra demonstrates
that the human individual soul is still a simple immaterial substance
in its essence with the same colour of the divine essence that the
human being has in its descending status (Mulla Sadra 1981a, Vol.3,
161; also Mulla Sadra 1368/1989, 414, 515; Mulla Sadra 1358/1979,
79, 92). However, as a worldly individual, it emerges along with the
material body so that it becomes “the first entelechy (perfection) of
the body.” (Mulla Sadra, 1981a, Vol. 8, 7; 8ff.). Sadra interprets this
classic definition of the human soul according to his own ontological
principles. (For the soul’s substantiality see Mulla Sadra, 1981a, Vol.
8, 23ff., and for its simplicity see 287ff); he offers about fourteen
reasons to demonstrate his position.
The human soul seems to be initially revealed and shaped as a
totally corporeal entity. There is, however, one being which passes
through various stages of perfection, and in every stage it exhibits a
unique pattern appropriate to that stage. (Mulla Sadra 1981a, Vol.2,
185). This indicates the corporeal origin of the individual soul,
which is not still a human soul, strictly speaking, at its origin. Even
in this state, however, the emergent soul of the human individual is
not a quality of the body. While he argues for physical emergentism,
Sadra explains that the spiritual soul emerges from its corporeal
origin but remains spiritual in its survival. (Mulla Sadra 1981a,
Vol.8, 4, 347; Mulla Sadra 2001, 150). This principle implies three
interrelated theses: First, it indicates that that soul depends on the
body for its identity and generation but not for its substance; sec-
ond, it indicates that there is a special kind of change through which
the soul emerges; and, third, the soul emerges from the body
through a substantial motion, which is metaphysical and existential
(Mulla Sadra1981a, Vol.8, 390).
On this principle, which is in its turn based on Sadra’s specific

theory of Being, and a reformulation of the principle of potency-act
in the traditional metaphysics (Mulla Sadra 1981a, Vol.3), the soul
comes into being in the form of spiritual existence and then through
its substantial motion it passes through physical stages towards its
refined nature. It is not the case that the soul comes to the body
from outside; rather, the very reality of the soul, as Sadra saw it
emerges from the material body at the beginning of its temporal
course; and then the actualisation of the physical reality under the
principle of substantial motion ends in the spiritual stage. In other
words, human existence changes and develops by itself and this
change is from the less intense to the more intense; this change and
movement constitutes the entity of the soul, and because of this de-
velopmental motion, new possibilities open up. (Mulla Sadra 1981a,
Vol.8, 330, 346; Mulla Sadra 2001b, 221).
The same principle demands that since the soul emerges on the
basis of matter, it cannot be absolutely material, for ‘emergence’
requires that the emergent must be of a higher level than that which
it emerges out of or on the basis of; and then the identity of the body
is due to the soul which is its final form. From this the irreducibility
of the emergent soul follows: The emergent soul is irreducible to and
unpredictable from the lower-level matter from which it emerges.
Sadra writes:
The truth is that the human soul is physical in its temporal occurrence
and participation, whereas it is spiritual in its subsistence and intellec-
tion; in that it is spiritual in its participation in the material world, it is
corporeal, while by its intellection of its own essence and of the essence
of its cause, it remains spiritual (Mulla Sadra 1981a, Vol.2, 268).
Given an extreme interpretation, this theory leads to a restatement

of the spiritualization of the human body already suggested in
Suhravardi’s works. In this manner, the traditional dualism of hu-
man nature tends to a unity in the Sadraean approach. Man, instead
of being a composite of body and soul, is considered as a single and
simple reality that comes into being in a body and gradually be-
104 Mahmoud Khatami
comes transformed into a spiritual substance, as if the body of man

were a catalyst by which the physical reality ascends to the spiritual:
It is evident that the human form is the ultimate stage of the physical
reality as well as the initial stage of the spiritual reality (Mulla Sadra
1346/1967, 95).
The substantial change of the soul from its corporeal genesis into a
spiritual entity leads to the total actualisation of the spiritual faculty,
which is just a potentiality in the primitive stages of the develop-
ment of the soul, that is, when the soul has not yet cast away its ve-
getable and animal shells. The soul is the inner force behind the en-
tire developmental processes; it is in its vegetable stage when man is
still a fertilised cell; then it passes through the animal kingdom,
which in turn culminates in the initial stage of humanity, wherein
the spiritual faculty is poised to achieve actualisation. Thus, the in-
tellect becomes manifest after the full realisation of the sense organs
and the internal faculties like perception, memory and the others
(Mulla Sadra 1368/1989, 128-32; Mulla Sadra 1981a, Vol.2.,223-43).
The soul has its being as a continuous reality at all these levels
and at each of these levels it is the same in one sense and yet differ-
ent in another sense because, as the hierarchic doctrine of existence
(tashkīk) demands, the same being can pass through different levels
of development (Mulla Sadra 1981a, Vol.4, 21, 60-3) So considered,
the soul becomes purified and realises its actualities as it is existen-
tially provided with a variety of faculties and powers. Faculties are
the ‘modes’ or ‘manifestations’ of the soul. In total harmony with the
Illuminative depiction of the human soul as the image of God, it is
one of the novel aspects of Sadra’s theory that he attributes the
quality of having powers, organs and faculties to the human spiri-
tual soul and not to the physical body, which would make the soul a
function of the body. This celebrated position is indeed a radical
departure from the major approaches in classical as well as contem-
porary philosophy of the soul. Sadra claims that this interpretation
of the soul removes the difficulties experienced with the definition of
the soul; further, it raises the soul from the status of a purely physi-
cal form to a form that, although in matter, is capable of transcend-

ing it, for the extent of its immanence in matter is less than that of a
simple physical form. This position plainly corresponds to the prin-
ciples of physical emergentism and substantial change. Sadra claims
that the human spiritual soul in its own unity is all of the faculties
(Mulla Sadra 1981a, Vol.8, 221).
Indeed, when the soul, which is an existential unity, achieves its
highest form through substantial motion, it contains all the lower
faculties and forms within its simple nature to create whatever it
requires. The soul has a supra-power to create by and in itself all
forms (Mulla Sadra 1981a, 114 ff.).
The human soul, though generated with/in the body, is not of the
body; but something higher than it, and employs spiritual functions.
As for sense perception, its subject is also the soul, not the sense
organs. Physical organs are required for sense perception but only
thanks to the accidental fact that we exist in a material world. The
reason for this is that the external sensible objects and the heart of
the sense organ are merely preparatory and provide the ‘occasions’
for the creation of the perceptible forms in and by itself from within
(Mulla Sadra 1362/1983b, 51, 53).
The soul is provided with sensory faculties through its substantial
movement. So, in the case of audition, for example, it is not the case
that the external sound produces a movement in the air that is ex-
actly transmitted through successive airwaves to the interior of the
ear until hearing takes place. The movement of the air and its air-
waves are merely preparatory conditions for the sound to be heard,
but they do not transmit the sound (Mulla Sadra 1981a, Vol. 8, ch. 4;
Vol.9, ch. 9). This idea is supported by Sadra’s doctrine of the iden-
tity of the knower, known, and knowledge, which is interpreted in
terms of existence. This doctrine indicates that knowledge in gen-
eral, including perceptive and imaginative knowledge, cannot be
merely interpreted in terms of abstraction; it is not the case that the
soul abstracts forms from mater or material attachments (Mulla
Sadra 1346/1967, 242 ff.; Mulla Sadra 1981a, Vol. 3, 312 ff.; Mulla
Sadra 2001a passim).
106 Mahmoud Khatami
During its substantial movements, the human soul reveals its

substantive independence in all aspects of human life, and transmi-
grates by extending its faculty towards a total self-realization of its
divine being, which falls far beyond its current spiritual capacities
and remains still incomprehensible. Now, this human soul as "di-
vine example" constitutes an image of God, both to the degree that it
becomes self-conscious in and through its own self-expression as
well as by ultimately proving through that very self-consciousness to
be incomprehensible to itself. The divine image of the human soul is
distinctive in that it is both self-conscious and incomprehensible to
itself. The Illuminative anthropology, insisting on the incomprehen-
sible image of the divine in the human soul, here comes to give a
decisive role to the human heart in the ascending soul. In the rest of
this paper, I will try to develop some remarks on this vital aspect of
the ascending soul in the school of the Illumination. This aspect of
the issue has a deep relationship with the dialectical consciousness
of the human “self,” for in knowing the deepest incomprehensibility
of the human, we come in fact to know that such incomprehensibil-
ity is at the same time the very ground of self-consciousness, for it is,
precisely, the incomprehensibility of a self-presence in and through
which alone self-consciousness is realized. (see: Sohravardi 1976,
38ff., 474-489; Mulla Sadra 1981a, Vol. 1, 293, 345, 382; Mulla
Sadra 1354/1975a, 81, 110; Mulla Sadra 1346/1967, mashad 1,
shāhid I, ishrāq 12).
4. The Role of the Heart in Ascent of the Human Soul
The ontological involvement of the human soul in the physical situa-

tion whose mechanism is explained by Sadra according to the theory
of the substantial movement, ends with the immaterializing of the
human being; but it does not indicate that it necessarily meets the
divine spirituality and transcendent conditions which require wil-
ling conscious actions and fulfilment through them. Sadra argues
that there is a kind of change that originates from the physical as-
pect of the individual human being on which the spiritual aspect,
however, depends. In its turn, this dependency yields a very specific

affectivity, which is the characteristic feature of human spiritual dy-
namism, conditioned by the reactivity of the body, which is a charac-
teristic of its somatic movement. The connection between the hu-
man soul and the soma in their dynamic aspect is an important ele-
ment in the soul’s substantial movement and its ascending and be-
coming transcendent (Mulla Sadra 1981a, Vol. 3). Since an ontologi-
cal genesis of the human soul from a physical origin may stop at the
appearance of common-sensually (rational and emotional) behavi-
ours that are devoted to and guaranteed to be bestowed to the hu-
man kind in a normal and natural way, it should not be expected
that every human individual will be able to ascend to the threshold
of the human reality, that is, to his celestial image of humanity, and
get rid of the earthy life. To this end, the individual soul should be
trained morally and equipped with divine wisdom. In this status, the
human soul finds within itself comprehensive equipment which,
once properly trained, mirrors the perfect being and conducts the
human soul to assimilate it. This equipment, which is called the
heart (qalb), is indicated in the Qur’an by the word lubb to mean the
highest degree of human cognitive faculty.
The human heart should not be confused with the animal heart,
which is a biological organ. The heart (qalb) in its purely divine
status is metaphorically called jām-e jam in Persian literature; jām-e
jam is a comprehensive monad that mirrors the entire world inside
itself. This concept is widespread throughout Persian mystical po-
etry and literature.
When the heart is achieved, it integrates all the lower cognitions
to the benefit of soul’s profound and transcendent cognition of being
absorbed in the perfect being in order to become worthy of the ce-
lestial image of humanity. (Mulla Sadra 1981a, Vol. 4, 145). This is
the dialectical intellect that is named “the holy intellect (al-‘aql al-
qudsī)” or the “intellect of the intellect (‘aql al-‘aql)” which far sur-
passes calculative reason and the reasoning intellect (Mulla Sadra
1981a, Vol. 1, 386; 420, 516). This concept of heart is then consid-
ered as the depth of the human being. We now try to explore this
notion a little more to find its role in the human soul ascending up
108 Mahmoud Khatami
to its real celestial status from which it has fallen to the earthy
prison.
The heart is the depth (bāṭin) of the human being and the most
glorious shape of the human soul and individual intellect just be-
cause it experiences and celebrates the depth of Being in its entire
presence (Mulla Sadra 2001c, 39). This is a purely ontological state,
and should not be confused with a physical or biological heart.
Again, it is not exactly even a psychological state in the scientific
sense; and this is why, therefore, we must avoid identifying depth
with the psychological unconscious. In this respect, any “depth psy-
chology” lays as many traps as it uncovers truths. The psychological
unconscious certainly seems to be one gauge of what is profound. It
is undeniable that we are affected by the unconscious and some-
times—in the case of certain privileged experiences—more deeply
than we would dare to admit. We join up with ourselves in an ex-
perience of emotional certitude. Nevertheless, what is the heart here
is not so much the psychological unconscious per se as it is our pre-
sent experience of uniting psychologically ourselves with this un-
conscious and identifying ourselves with what we have been, aided
by a peculiar perception testifying to the unconscious. It is a triple
experience. First, we form an integral unit with ourselves and be-
come one, in spite of our temporal diffusion. Second, we take on the
extra weight of the unconscious in an experience by which we are
assured of our substantiality without the unconscious's weight drag-
ging us down into the in-itself, since the totality of our unconscious
is not the positivity of thinghood but the affirmation of an existence.
Finally, we experience the irresistible flow of time, while at the same
time possessing something within us that is invulnerable to time,
because our unconscious is not abolished and does not become
something foreign and distant. It is thus that we experience the di-
mension of interiority, that which grants us depth—in short, our
power of joining ourselves to ourselves and of escaping time within
time by founding a new time through fidelity to memory and to
promises. But it is not the psychological unconscious by itself which
has depth. The psychological unconscious as such does not affect
me. What really affects me is the make up of my ontological pres-

ence. Depth arises, therefore, in the use that I make of this presence.
Just as depth is not quantitative, it is also not a matter of physical
extension. If time or space come into the discourse, they are to be
considered as of the meta-material (barzakhi) world, that is, entirely
within an ontological extension of it. This is a pillar of the anthropo-
cosmology developed in the Persian school of Illumination.
Sohravardi talks about meta-material time and land in his amazing
short treatises (compiled in Sohravardi 1977c; for a description in
English see Corbin 1977). The depth in the human being is in
command of the celestial duration (dahr) (Mulla Sadra 1378/1999a,
101). The inexorable flow of one moment into the next is no more
than an occasion to evoke the human presence so as to fashion its
meta-material image (al-ṣūrah al-barzakhī) and commit oneself to
existence. (Mulla Sadra 1362-68/1983-89, Vol. 5, 402). If there is
any depth in the moment itself, that is, if I am entirely present
within it and consecrate it with my presence, then that moment will
not pass away. In this sense, depth is a figure of eternity insofar as
the heart is present. My depth can have a relationship with the
present moment only to the extent that this moment is filled with
me, arising from an ontological stage which I am and not from one
in which I am. That is, my depth refers essentially to the self, to the
plenitude and authenticity of my being, and my depth is my heart
only to the extent that the heart is myself (Mulla Sadra 1981a, Vol.8,
281; Mulla Sadra 1346/1967, 344).
To own depth means to situate oneself at a certain level where
one’s heart becomes sensitive throughout one’s being, where one
collects oneself together and commits oneself. Having such depth
can best be understood in contrast with those ways of being indiffer-
ent, detached, or superficial when one is not really oneself. As such,
one lives at the whim of the moment, project-less in the course of
mere succession which is neither a recovery nor a commitment, as if
his actions were no more than movements under the control of a
sort of mechanical causality. To own depth means to reject the idea
of being a thing that is always external to itself and is dispersed. This
means becoming a heart capable of an inner life, collecting oneself
110 Mahmoud Khatami
within oneself, acquiring intimacy, and having a devoted love to

achieve and assimilate perfect being. The echoes of all this are con-
tained in the word “self-consciousness,” which connotes the emer-
gence of a for-itself, not as the power of negation, but as a power of
affirmation. Heart comes from this depth or, say, gets to build it up.
It is in the depth that, in a very specific sense, heart becomes God’s
throne. It is heart that embraces existence, and is inspired by it. In
any event, heart exhibits signs of the perfect being. It involves, first,
a total presence on the part of the human being, for whom the per-
fect being is present only because the human being is present. As
long as all celestial love exercises my heart, I detach myself from
personal individuality and become more impersonal. Before the
perfect being, on the other hand, I am neither a pure consciousness
nor a pure look, since my [divine] glance (naẓar) is laden with all
that I am. The perfect being does not really belong to me unless I
belong to it. This relationship is purely existential. Heart is the
depth because the perfect being takes the ascending soul absorbed
and reaches into the being that constitutes me. My depth is imma-
nent in what I am—it is not the result of a psychological unconscious
which binds me into the final term of a causal sequence, but the seat
of a mutual presence between me and the perfect being in which I
am conjoined with my real self. This presence which I am gives a
density to my heart, and a penetrating quality to my glance. All the
events from my heart become myself, and originate from this depth.
I appeal to the perfect being through the spiritual heart which in its
essence is but the divine whiff (al-nafhat al-ilāhiyya) in me who am
capable of being affected by His grace (fayḍ) and mercy (raḥmat),
through the substantial and yet non-material density of a deep and
profound self. The more I lay myself open to the perfect being, the
more present will my heart be to its inspirations (ilhāmāt) (Mulla
Sadra 1962, 44). This is why the experience of celestial love is not a
matter of indifference in this situation—not because it gives me a
taste of something about the perfect being itself, but because it also
instructs me by giving the perfect being a greater hold over me, and
my heart a greater absorption.
The spiritual heart is my depth not only because it unifies me but

also because it opens me up. Inner life or the life of the heart is not
to lead the human being into the obscure meanderings of earthy
involvement. Rather, the real life of the human being is manifested
in loving the perfect being, and to become and be similar to Him,
which simultaneously is manifested above all in its power of laying
open the transcendent self. Having depth means being available to
the perfect being and receptive to Him, and it is by the same move-
ment that I lay myself open. From the Illuminative point of view, it
is within the depth, within the horizon of our heart, that we can
open ourselves to the perfect being in one and the same movement.
There is reciprocity between the heart and the perfect being. In the
present case, such reciprocity is at work at a spiritual level. Being
similar to Him designates the pure relationship to the self and
shows the substance of the self that possesses the depth. And, in
fact, to lay myself open is merely to be conscious of the perfect be-
ing, and to associate myself with Him. The spiritual heart is a seat of
communion to which I bring the entirety of my being. The spiritual
heart is the depth, therefore, by this type of confidence which it in-
spires with regard to the perfect being (Mulla Sadra 1362/1983a,
139).
This is possible only when the spiritual heart is pure and sound
(sālim) to mirror the perfect being. Precisely in this status it is a
laying open, a mode of attention. The spiritual heart operates with-
out forcing itself. The perfect being is transparent to the heart, but
with the transparency of a sign (ayah) which is its own meaning. The
mirroring of the perfect being is alive in proportion to the fullness of
our presence and, consequently, to the richness of our conscious-
ness. By this, the real meaning penetrates into the heart just as di-
rectly, but this meaning is richer because it enlivens the heart more
deeply. This is why the spiritual heart can receive and welcome the
entire world within itself and become the macrocosm (al-alam al-
akbar). The human heart is a wide seat of the inward meanings im-
planted by the divine inspirations in it through its spiritual journey.
This is why being human involves the grasping of an integrated
meaning of the perfect being. This implies a discovery of a meaning
112 Mahmoud Khatami
within or beyond appearances, which they offer only to the human

being who knows how to decipher them.
How is this meaning deciphered? To say that this is done by
judgement is to invoke rational thinking without showing its celes-
tial origin or advent, as well as to presuppose an object already given
to this thinking. To say that it is the result of learning and that na-
ture teaches us from the repetition of contiguities is to much of a
simplification of the issue. For one thing, certain meanings appear
to the human being at once, in an immediate spiritual experience.
Thus the human being is in accord with his heart, comprehending
the divine verses inwardly and outwardly: ayātinā fī al-afāq wa fī
anfusihim (Qur’an, 41:53) as soon as he is capable of certain modes
of signs, long before reason has been able to establish stable asso-
ciations and fix them in him (Mulla Sadra 1378/1975b, 160).
The mechanical link between sign and thing signified does not
constitute a signification for the human being. There is signification
only if two conditions are fulfilled. First, this link must be realized in
the heart by inspiring a certain authority. Meaning is not primarily
something that I rationalize with detachment and abstraction but
something that concerns and determines my depth, resonating in
my heart and moving me towards the perfect being. The second
condition, which underlies the superior spirit of meaning, is that the
meaning be grasped immediately in the heart only when I become
capable of interrogating signs and seeking their signification. I can
decipher signs and comprehend the divine verses only when I have
already had the experience of the signified. I am capable of bringing
about a higher synthesis of the signified and the signifying only be-
cause this synthesis is already given to me and present in my heart.
It is, however, a matter of gradual fulfilment, and comes along
with the unity of the soul expressed through self-realization that is
simultaneously a conscious response to values. But the inclusion of
the conscious response to values takes place with a specific empathy
to them. Human empathy to values based in the spiritual heart
grounds a spontaneous character; in this respect it manifests the
same traits as enthusiasm itself towards the perfect being, which
always reflects what in the human being takes place in a “spiritual
way”. Because of this spontaneous empathy to values the heartful

potentiality supplies the will with a special kind of raw material—
since in any choice, an act of will is always a spiritually defined in-
tellectual response to values (Mulla Sadra discusses the relation
between the act of will (‘azm) to enthusiasm in Mulla Sadra
1354/1975a, 8, and 4, 219). This is why human transcendence re-
quires conscious action (Mulla Sadra 1981a Vol. 3, 340, Mulla Sadra
1362-68/1983-89, Vol. 1, 241).
Conscious action, in this sense, depends on the functioning of the
heart. The free exercise of the will is variously modified by this side
of the human soul. These modifications are of great import here.
Nevertheless, we first have to consider them as an aspect, or per-
haps a dimension, of self-consciousness. Self-consciousness reflects
human presence; but, at the same time, it lets the human being have
the experience of the self, to have the experience of itself and of its
acting. The human heart is somehow engaged in experiencing its
depth (Mulla Sadra 1378/1999b, 162). This experience is linked with
the reflecting function of consciousness, and hence is also guided by
self-presence, whose participation is easily noticeable in a certain
shaping of what becomes the content of consciousness and is subse-
quently experienced. Self-presence constitutes the emblem we have
of ourselves in consciousness which is relocated in the operation of
the reflexive function of consciousness and which realizes its con-
tent. In the acts of self-presence, human soul gains self-conscious-
ness as a whole (Mulla Sadra 1354/1975a, 81).
As for comprehending depth, self-presence relies to a great extent
on the particular apperceptions and inspirations that occur in the
spiritual heart. We know that neither the organism, with all its com-
posite inner structure, nor the particular vegetative processes going
on in it can be the object of self-presence or self-consciousness. This
is because, according to the philosophy of Illumination, self-pres-
ence or self-consciousness reaches only as far into the physical or-
ganism and its life as the human soul allows it to reach, since, ac-
cording to Mulla Sadra, all bodily capabilities belong to the human
soul, and the soul employs the body-organs as instruments to fulfil
and realize its abilities. This idea is widely accepted in the Persian
114 Mahmoud Khatami
Illuminative school. According to this interpretation, there is a cor-

responding corporeality in the human soul which is called the
imaginal body (al-badan al-mithālī) which undertakes and executes
all that we ascribe to the physical body in our ordinary every day life
(Mulla Sadra 1981a Vol. 6, 149; Mulla Sadra 1378/1999b, 162). Very
often, for instance, owing to disease, which activates the corre-
sponding spiritual apperceptions, a human being becomes aware of
one of its organs or of a vegetative process within itself. Signifi-
cantly, furthermore, Sohravardi has interpreted the integrated psy-
chosomatic powers of the human being as the contents of the world
(earthly and celestially), such as oceans, mountains, birds, etc., and
conversely interprets the world as a human being (Sohravardi 1977c,
466). Generally, depth becomes the object of experiences first of
self-presence and self-consciousness. The experience of depth, at
this level, has acts of apperception. Nevertheless, a human being not
only feels its depth, but also is aware of it. (Mulla Sadra 1354/1975a,
110).
The sphere of heart in the human being has an objective wealth of
its own. To some extent (e.g., in the mystical experience) this wealth
corresponds to the structure of the human being, as well as of the
order of Being. This is in harmony with the amazing traditions nar-
rated in the Islamic heritage, including those that indicate that the
human heart is the throne of God. The differentiation of the heart is
qualitative, and in this respect it comes in a hierarchical order. The
qualitative order of the heart gives substance to the human spiritual
life and allow it to become transcendent. It is also worth noting that
the heartful life of a human being exerts a remarkable influence in
the configuration of its actions. This interesting point is also well
recognized in the school of Illumination: in a broad sense, the
spiritual heart may in some respects enhance our actions, but in
others it has a limiting effect on what is essential in acting, namely,
the exercise of the free will. The contribution of the free will in act-
ing is limited to action insofar as it is seen as conscious. Here we are
dealt with what may be named the "heartfulization of conscious-
ness," that is to say, the definite affection of the heart on the con-
sciousness of acting (Kāshānī 1380/2001, 637ff.).
The core point is that the different forms in which the heartful
occurrences (al-ṣawānih al-qalbiyyah) appear and transpire in a
human being are not only reflected in consciousness, but also influ-
ence in their own definite way the icon that is shaped in conscious-
ness of different objects, including, of course, the human self and its
actions (Mulla Sadra 1981a Vol. 4, 74). Various feelings of the heart
heartfulize consciousness, that is to say, they blend with the func-
tions of consciousness thereby modifying, in one way or another,
their character. This is first manifested in the icon shaped in con-
sciousness, which misses its aloofness with regard to the heart and
the objects that the heart is emotionally involved in. This aloofness
of consciousness is because of self-presence, which to a certain ex-
tent possesses the power to objectify the heart and its apperceptions
and inspirations. In this way the meaning of the heartful occur-
rences becomes accessible to consciousness, and thus it can preserve
its aloofness from them and from the objects they point to (Jilī
1981). The depth of human being occurs and is constituted in this
way, and due to this, the human being can in a way control the
heart, while being controlled by that heart. The control of the heart
by consciousness has an implication for the inner unity of the hu-
man being (Mulla Sadra 1981a Vol. 1, 89; Vol. 4, 190). Obviously, the
control consciousness exercises over the heart is not achieved
outside the field of the will and without its cooperation. Thus,
thanks to this control, we can shape human values insofar as con-
sciousness and the will are concerned. (see: Jāmī 1360/1981, 108
ff.).
The heartfulization of consciousness starts when the icon of the
meanings of the particular heartful occurrences and of the relevant
objects lighten in consciousness. This is virtually equivalent to a
collapse of self-presence; for consciousness, without stopping to
reflect the heartful distances just as they come, loses its controlling
approach toward them. The objective approach of consciousness
toward the heart and its feelings disintegrates when self-presence
ceases to objectivize. It does not constitute meanings and so does
not hold the heartful occurrences in spiritual subjection. This is ba-
sically because of the strength or intensity of heartful occurrences,
116 Mahmoud Khatami
their changeability, and the speediness with which they may follow.
Considering also the higher or lower effectiveness of self-presence,
the heart has to conform with the laws of effectiveness, so that its
ability to cope with its proper goal may vary. Feelings come in the
heart as if in waves. But every human being has, as an objective
spiritual component, an especially heartful enthusiasm, which ex-
presses itself in the intensity of particular feelings. The role of self-
presence in this regard is crucial, and that is why its effectiveness is
so important.
This performance entails that the heart be at a certain level of
intensity. At first, the heart still reflects the higher feelings as
something that happens in it, but when their intensity is further en-
hanced or self-presence becomes for the time less effective, the heart
still reflects the feelings as something inspired, although now it is as
though they had lost their relation to the individual self. The depth
of the heart, in this state, stays at the background while the feelings
seem uprooted. Nevertheless, when this process gains ascendancy,
the heart enhances directly the actual inspirations, while it still con-
tinues to reflect feelings of a hyper level; but now their reflection is
devoid of the element of objectivation or comprehension. At this
level, which the human soul will be illuminated with glancing at,
listening to and witnessing the celestial facts, the human being is
then aware, but it does not willingly control its heart which is full of
enthusiasm (al-shawq) and love (al-ḥubb/ al-‘ishq) (Suhravardi
1977c, 286-88).
5. Final Considerations
As final considerations, I intend here to mention only some remarks

concerning this later fact, inasmuch as it assists the constitution and
integration of the human soul in its ascent to its spiritual status. In
this Illuminative perspective, enthusiasm draws a unified image of
love. The heart as the vital motor for raising the human soul up to its
real status in the order of being benefits from an enthusiastic
movement (al-harakat al-shawqiyyah) from within itself (Mulla
Sadra 1362-68/1983-89, Vol.1, 45, Mulla Sadra 1981a Vol. 1, 237).

This enthusiastic movement which may be seen as running between
the heart and the perfect being, leads to a holy and hyper-spiritual
status which is called love (Mulla Sadra 1354/1975a, 152; Mulla
Sadra 1981a, Vol. 3, 177; 188). Apparently the function performed by
love is based on the heartful occurrences which come along with the
ontological dialectic between the heartful love raised within the
human soul and the reactive love of the divine who pulls up the soul
towards Himself. In spite of the distinctive difference between these
loves, they are closely interrelated and condition each other. All that
fulfils and constitutes the spiritual transcendence of the human
being—its attitude toward truth, good, and beauty with the
accompanying faculty of self-realization—stimulates a very deep
heartful reverberation in human being. The reverberation—its qual-
ity and intensity—is thoroughly individual and in its own way also
fulfils the quality and intensity of transcendence, or at any rate pro-
vides a special basis for transcendence in human being (Mulla Sadra
1981a, Vol. 3, 188).
This begins effectively at the point where substantial movement
is accomplished and where simultaneously enthusiasm comes clos-
est to the divine response to the human heart. Enthusiasm, which
ends in true love, is strictly connected with the operation of the di-
vine stimuli (Mulla Sadra 1362/1983a, 135). The human reactivity
consists in the ability to react to the divine stimuli. Alongside this
ability and very close to it there seems to be another one, namely,
the ability to love. This ability also consists in the reception of the
divine stimuli whose effect is spiritual and is expressed and mani-
fested in the human heart. It is conditioned by and transcends
through the divine reaction. (Mulla Sadra 1981a, Vol. 3, 173, 174).
This ontological enthusiastic process concerns the depth of the
human heart, and lets the human being emerge from and above
what may be called the “subjectivity of the depth.” While such “sub-
jectivity” is in itself closely related to the divine reactivity and to a
large extent remains unrecorded in consciousness, the spiritual
subjectivity, which emerges together with enthusiasm in the heart, is
already included in the consciousness of the human presence. For
118 Mahmoud Khatami
enthusiasm as such constitutes a cognitive element of the human

presence, which thus becomes accessible to self-consciousness; be-
cause of enthusiasm, the depth becomes an objective content of con-
sciousness and is reflected in it (Mulla Sadra 1981a, Vol. 3, 342).
The relation of enthusiasm to consciousness is of fundamental
significance for love. First, enthusiasm plays a decisive role in ena-
bling human being to have an experience of its depth. In this experi-
ence enthusiasm is included in consciousness and combines with it
to form a single common basis of experience, though enthusiasm
differs from subjective awareness. The whole inner love of the depth
remains, however, beyond the reach of consciousness, although in
being conscious of the depth, human being also has a kind of general
awareness of its inwardness and its inner love (Naraqi 1382/2003,
chapters on shawq and ḥubb).
Enthusiasm is a necessary condition for experiencing love. In this
experience, depth and love are bound together by enthusiasm,
which is the most elementary manifestation of the human heart as
well as the nearest reflection in it of what is spiritual in human be-
ing. This experience we have of our own depth allows us to establish
an objective contact with it and at the same time reveals the spiritual
subjectivity unified with the entire faculties of the human soul. Does
not this enthusiastic experience "happen" within the heart and does
not this "happening" reveal love? The human soul has no mobility of
its own by which to ascend to its real status; it is this enthusiastic
experience that subordinates the human soul to the perfect being. It
is this enthusiastic experience that is the condition of self-realization
and thus also of ascendance and transcendence; it is the condition of
the realization of the human soul and allows it as much insight into
spirituality as it needs for self-transcendence. In the same way, the
human soul reaches its real place in the order of being, to an onto-
cognitive status that the Persian Illuminative poet, Hātif Isfahānī
describes in his famous tarjī’band:
Open the eye of the heart that thou mayst behold Being,
that thou mayst see that which is not to be seen...
Thou seekest a candle whilst the sun is on high:
the day is very bright whilst thou art in darkest night.

If thou wilt but escape from thy darkness
thou shalt behold all the universe the dawning-place of lights.
Like a blind man thou seekest guide and staff
for this clear and level road.
References
Āmulī Haydar (1368/1989a) Jam‘ al-Asrār, ed. H. Corbin and O.

Yahya, Tehran: Nashr Elmi Farhangi.
Āmulī Haydar (1368/1989b) Asrār al-Sharī‘ah, Tehran: Entesharat
Elmi Farhangi.
Corbin, Henry (1977) Spiritual Body and Celestial Earth, tr. N.
Pearson, Princeton: Princeton University Press.
Ibn Arabi (1946) Fuṣūṣ al-Ḥikām, ed. A. Afifi, Beirut: Dār al-kutub
al-‘Arabī.
Ibn ‘Arabi (1293/1876) al-Futūḥāt al-Makkiyya, Cairo: Bulaq.
Ibn Sina (1375/1996) Al-Shifā’, Kitāb al-Nafs (Book of the Soul)
Qom: Marakaz al-I‘lām al-Islāmī.
Jāmī, Abdorrahman (1360/1981) Lavāmī’ va Lavāyeh, ed. I. Afshar,
Tehran: Manuchehri.
Jilī, ‘Abdulkarīm (1981) al-Insān al-Kāmil, Cairo: Maktaba al-Bābī
wa al-Alavī.
Kāshānī, Abdurrazzāq (1380/2001) Majmu‘ah Rasā’il wa
Muṣannafāt, ed. M. Hadizadeh, Tehran: Mirath Maktub.
Khatami M. (1385/2006) “A‘yān thābitah nazd-e Ibn ‘Arabi”, in
Jashnnāmeh Doktor Jahāngīrī, Tehran: Hermes.
Khārazmī, Ḥusayn (1380/2001) Sharḥ-e Fuṣūṣ, ed. H. Ḥasanzādeh
Āmulī, Qom: Daftar-e Tablīghāt.
Majlisī, Muḥamamd Bāqir (1362/1983) Biḥār al-Anwār, Vols. 58, 65
and 101, Tehran: Dār al-Kutūb.
Miṣbāḥ Yazdi, Mohamamd Taqi (1380/2001) Sharh-e Jeld-e
Hashtom-e Al-Asfār al-‘Arba'ah, Vol. 2 Qom: The Imam
Khomeini Education and Research Institute Press.
120 Mahmoud Khatami
Mulla Sadra (1386/2007) Iqāẓ al-Nā’mīn, ed. M. Khwansari,

Tehran: Bonyad Hikmat Sadra.
Mulla Sadra (2001a) “Ittiḥād al-‘Āqil bi al-Ma‘qūl”, in al-Rasa’il,
Beirut: Dar al-Ihya.
Mulla Sadra (2001b) Sharḥ al-Hidayah, ed. M. Foladkar, Beirut: Dar
al-Ihyā.
Mulla Sadra (2001c) al-Arshiyyah, ed. M.K. al-Laboun Foladkar,
Bayrut: Mu’assassah al-Tārīkh.
Mulla Sadra (1378/1999a) Risālah fī al-Ḥudūth, ed. H. Musaviyan,
Tehran: Bunyad Hikmat Mulla Sadra.
Mulla Sadra, (1378/1999b) al-Maẓāhir al-Illāhiyyah, ed. M.
Khamenehi, Tehran: Bonyad Hekmat Sadra.
Mulla Sadra (1368/1989) Mafātih al-Ghayb, ed. M. Khajavi, Tehran:
Mu’assasah-yei Mutali‘āt va Tahqīqāt-e Farhangī.
Mula Sadra (1362/1983a) Ajwibāt al-Masa’il, ed. J. Ashtiyani,
Tehran:.
Mulla Sadra (1362/1983b) al-Masa’il al-Qudsiyyah, ed. J. Ashtiyani,
Tehran: Daftar-e Tablīghāt.
Mulla Sadra (1362-68/1983-89) Tafsīr al-Qur’ān, ed. M. Khajavi,
Qom: Entesharat Bidar.
Mulla Sadra (1981a) Asfār, Beirut: Dār al-Ihyā’ al-Turāth al-‘Arabī.
Mulla Sadra (1981b) Muqaddimāt al-Shawāhid al-Rubūbiyyah, fī al-
Manāhij al-Sulūlkiyyah, with the comments of Sabzavari,
Mashhad: Markaz al-Nashr al-Jāmi‘ī.
Mulla Sadra (1360/1981c) al-Asrār al-Āyāt, ed. M. Kajavi, Tehran:
Anjoman Falsafeh
Mulla Sadra (1358/1979) al-Wāridāt al-Qalbiyyah, ed. A. Shafi‘iha,
Tehran: Mu’assasah-yi Mutali‘at va Tahqiqat-i Farhangi
Mulla Sadra (1354/1975a) al-Mabda’ wa al-Ma’ād, ed. J. Ashtiyani,
Tehran: Anjoman Falsafeh.
Mulla Sadra (1354/1975b) Risāleh Seh Aṣl, ed. H. Nasr, Tehran.
Mulla Sadra (1346/1967) al-Shawāhid al-Rubūbiyyah, ed. J.
Ashtiyani, Mahdad: University of Mashhad Press.
Mulla Sadra (1962) Kasr al-Asnām al-Jahiliyyat, ed. M. T.
Daneshpajoh, Tehran: University of Tehran Press.
Mutahhari, M. (1369/1990) Ḥarakat wa Zamān, Vol. 2, Tehran:

Hikmat.
Mutahhari, M. (1366/1987) Maqālāt-e Falsafī, Vol. 1. Tehran:
Hikmat.
Naraqi, Mahdi (1382/2003) Mustanad al-Shi’at, Qum: Āl al-bayt,
vol. 2.
Rāzī, Najm al-Dīn, (1365/1986) Mirsād al-‘Ibād, ed. A. Riyahi,
Tehran: Entesharat Elmi Farhangi.
Shomali, M. A. (2007) “Psychic Substance: A Meeting Point between
Metaphysics & Spirituality” in Substance and Attributes: Western
and Islamic Traditions in Dialogue, ed. C. Kanzian and M.
Legenhausen, Frankfurt: Ontos.
Sohravardi, Shihāb al-Dīn (1976) Majmū‘ah Muṣannafāt Shaykh
Ishraq, Vol. 1, ed., H. Corbin, Tehran: Anjuman-e Falsafeh.
Sohravardi, Shihāb al-Dīn (1977a) Hikmat al-Ishraq in Majmū‘ah
Muṣannafāt Shaykh Ishraq, Vol. 2, ed., H. Corbin, Tehran:
Anjuman-e Falsafeh.
Sohravardi, Shihāb al-Dīn (1977b) Qiṣṣah al-Ghurbah al-Gharbiyyah
in Majmū‘ah Muṣannafāt Shaykh Ishraq, Vol. 2, ed., H. Corbin,
Tehran: Anjuman-e Falsafeh.
Sohravardi, Shihāb al-Dīn (1977c) Muṣannafāt Shaykh Ishraq, Vol.
3, ed., S. H. Nasr, Tehran: Anjuman-e Falsafeh.
The Soul, Disposition or Substance?
Hans Kraml, Innsbruck
“The soul is the first activation of the potentiality for life that is in
organic physical—or natural—bodies.”
With this formulation Aristotle in his book “On the soul” (2, c. 1
(412a27-28)) had handed a heavy load over to his successors. It
contains the essence of Aristotle’s ontology, and it has to do with the
problem of dispositions and their activation or actualization. This
problem of dispositions became famous in Western philosophy of
science, because it haunted the empiricist philosophers of the
Vienna-Circle and many of their followers to the present day (Car-
nap 1987). The problem for philosophers of empiricist outlook is
that dispositional terms are ubiquitous in scientific theories, but
dispositions are not immediately observable and are not reducible to
cases that may be described with observational terms without as-
sumptions that transcend the field of empirical statements.
Nevertheless, dispositional terms are common to our scientific as
well as everyday life. The properties of elements and molecules and
their compounds in chemistry are dispositions as well as the most
elementary aspects of our meals, tools, and other objects.
Dispositions are transformed into events or properties, if the
objects that bear these dispositions are brought into suitable
circumstances. Sugar dissolves, if put into water; a copper-wire
conduces electricity, if connected to a source of electricity; a smell or
sound is registrated, if there is a nose or an ear to take notice of it.
For Aristotle, there are sorts of dispositions that become actual
events or properties only if there is a soul to set them into action.
There are different dispositions that become actual only if the soul
has ceased to exert its activity. For a plant to grow is the result of the
activity of its soul; the decay of the plant, although a natural process,
is due to the absence of the soul.
Is this explanation of the relevant cases and processes at all
worth while?
124 Hans Kraml
First of all, it is a statement of the relevant facts, not an

explanation. To sum up: the soul is stated to be the act of certain
kinds of dispositions that exist in certain kinds of physical bodies,
namely organic bodies. Again, what an organic body is can only be
described by recourse to certain dispositions. The soul is that which
provides for the existence of the dispositions in a body and which
enacts the dispositions under suitable circumstances. This makes it
difficult to assess the precise role of the soul. It is the actualization
of the possibilities of organic bodies, its matter, to which these dis-
positions belong as cases of possibilities, and in this sense matter.
But as such it is able to put the possibilities in action at will as it
seems, at least some of the possibilities. Thoughts, for example, and
reasoning can be started in the soul voluntarily as well as by outer
events. Perception is different, it is caused by the object to be percei-
ved, although it is again the soul that actualizes the disposition re-
quired for perception.
Perception, whenever it occurs, is a singular event in which the
potentiality of the soul is actualized completely. So, if my eyes are
directed to a white wall, my potency to have the impression of white
is actualized, whereas other different possibilities are not actualized.
But when the wall turns green, my ability to see green is actualized.
This is a particular case, and every time I perceive an object, the
potentialities of my senses are actualized individually.
In this case, the perception and that which is perceived are at any
moment of perception identical. My perception of green consists in
the green I perceive and vice versa. This is perhaps clearer in the
case of the other senses. The sound I hear is the perception of the
sound itself, the smell I scent is my perception of the smell, and so
on, and in all these cases, the perception is the thing perceived, as
the smell perceived is the smell itself. There is no further possibility
of talk about a representation of the smell perceived, although such
a possibility is often taken for granted in the case of vision while the
other senses are notoriously disregarded by philosophers. This is an
important point, because it should help us to understand some of
the crucial remarks on the intellect and the discussion of these
remarks in the theories based on Aristotle’s investigations.
The soul, disposition or substance? 125
A second point of importance is that in the case of perception the

potentiality of the soul is in each case totally actualized. There is no
possibility left, which means that there is no perception of the
perception. This again constitutes an important difference from the
case of the intellect. This intellect is, according to Aristotle, clearly
the highest function of the rational soul, or of the rational part of the
soul. Nevertheless, for its proper functioning it needs the lower parts
of the soul or the lower souls. Aristotle never decides on the que-
stion whether there are different souls in rational beings or different
parts in their souls, at least in his books “On the soul”.
The intellect is the actualization of the soul’s disposition or
potentiality to grasp universality and generality. Although the soul is
the act of the organic body, it is able to play in case of rational
beings, like humans, the role of matter for the universal forms that
actualize the things in the universe. These forms, on the one hand,
actualize their proper matter, thus making real the different entities
in the whole universe, but on the other hand, these same forms are
able to actualize the possibility of the intellect to adopt such forms in
itself. This so called potential intellect (intellectus in potentia,
dynamei nous, ‘aql bil-quwwa) is the matter for the forms to be
received in the intellect. If a form is thus received in the intellect, the
intellect is actualized (intellectus in actu, energeia nous, ‘aql bil-fi‘l).
So far the situation is intentionally construed parallel to the case of
the perception. But there are at least two additional aspects to be
taken into account.
The first point is that the intellect, although it is to some extent
passive, is nevertheless impassible, although in a different respect it
not only passively receives the forms but actively applies those
forms. The intellect therefore is able to become everything and to
produce everything (430a14-15). It receives the forms of the things
from outside, and receiving them it produces these forms as forms
in the intellect. Having produced these forms it is able to use the
forms in order to build sentences and theories and to draw conclu-
sions from them. Whereas the perceptions disappear if the object
perceived is removed, the forms impressed on the intellect can
remain and be revoked at any time, independently of the presence of
126 Hans Kraml
an object. In order to achieve this performance, the intellect uses the

imaginative power, which depends on perception, but is a result of
interaction with memory. But this is a ramification that will not con-
cern me further.
When confronted with things outside the mind with their own
matter and form, the intellect is moved from potentiality to actu-
ality, thus producing the forms of the things in the way in which
they can appear and exist in the intellect. In interpreting the Aristo-
telian text one may get the impression that the forms that are finally
the possession of the active intellect must somehow have been
collected or acquired by the intellect. This, it seems to me, was the
reason Alexander of Aphrodisias postulated the “acquired intellect”
as something like the basis of the active intellect (see Théry 1926).
Aristotle does not mention anything of that kind in the treatise on
the soul, but he spoke of an aspect of the intellect that comes to the
soul “from outside”— thyrathen—in his work “On the generation of
the animals” (II, 3. (736b27-28)). This point is important for Ale-
xander, but it was interpreted quite differently, as far as I can see, by
Farabi for instance (Farabi 1938, p. 20, n. 24, and p. 22-23, nn. 29
and 30). It seems that Alexander interpreted Aristotle in the sense
that the ability of human beings to abstract the forms of the things
and to handle them in discourse and argument, depends on the fact
that an independent aspect of intellect is brought into the human
soul that does not belong to the capacities of the soul itself, but to
those of an intellect outside the human mind that governs the
universe and gives forms to the things that exist in matter.
There is constantly a tension between the question of the activity
of the human intellect in itself or the activity of an intellect outside
the human intellect that acts upon that intellect and causes it to
recognize the real forms of the things outside the mind. The acqui-
red intellect of Alexander seems to be an intellect that enters the
soul from outside and that is an intellect or part of an intellect that
has its proper existence outside the mind elsewhere in the cosmos.
But in the case of Farabi this outside intellect obviously is the
agent intellect which is the intellect of the lunar sphere and the
“dator formarum” for the things in the sublunar world as well as for
the human intellect. The acquired intellect in this case is the intel-
lect after having collected the forms of the things in the potential
intellect through its actualiziation by the forms of the things that
impress themselves on the possible intellect by the aide of the active
intellect that makes the forms of the things outside the mind
intelligible. In Farabi’s theory, the acquired intellect is the form of
the soul in its lower functions (Farabi 1938, p. 23, n. 30), and it is
the task of this intellect to get as close as possible to the agent
intellect.
For both Alexander as well as Farabi, it is clear that the intellect
has to do with something that goes beyond the human ability to find
out general and universal aspects in the singular occurrences and
things that are accessible to the senses. For both, this has to do with
the activity of a universal intellect present in the whole cosmos,
which is a result of the abundance in the first and divine unity. Why
then is it generally accepted that Alexander has a materialist account
of soul and intellect? I don’t think this is a problem that should
concern us at the moment, but it is clear that he identified the active
intellect with God and that he was convinced of the mortality of the
human soul. The active intellect in this interpretation, as the
principle of the actualization of the potential forms in the passive
intellect, is identified with God, who of course is immortal, but who-
se activity does not imply the immortality of an individual soul.
Although this is generally accepted as Alexander’s position—and
this very position was proposed by Renaissance philosophers like Pi-
etro Pomponazzi and Cesare Cremonini who declared themselves as
followers of Alexander—it is far less clear what this position meant.
If the soul is the form of the body as the principle of the actuality of
its organic dispositions, it disappears, of course, with the end of the
possible activity of the dispositions of the body. The dissolution of
matter could be taken to be the result of the end of its form. But this
can be looked at in at least two different ways. First, one could
assume that there is a general corruption of the whole substance as a
process of the destruction of its form and matter together. But one
could also assume that it is the form that is withdrawn from the
matter, leading to its immediate decay into a sort of matter that in
128 Hans Kraml
turn acquires other forms. If an animal dies, it looses its form as an

animal of this or that kind, but it does not turn into pure matter, but
only into a corpse, which still is formed matter, and as long as there
remains anything, it is always matter and form or formed matter or
materialized form that remains. What about the form that is lost?
Does it disappear or is it just withdrawn from the original substance
because the destruction of form is ultimately as inconceivable as the
destruction of matter? If matter acquires a different form, the
original substance is destroyed, but not the matter itself. If a sub-
stance loses its form, the substance may be destroyed in so far as it
is that substance, but the form as such, like matter, probably cannot
be destroyed because destruction means the separation of substance
and form. In this sense the soul cannot be mortal, although it pro-
bably cannot be immortal either, just because it is not living and
therefore not a possible candidate for the predication of “life” or
“death”. If the soul is the act of a potentially living body, it is not li-
ving itself in the same sense, because in this case it would need in its
turn a soul to be the act of its life, and it would need something that
serves as matter for this case. This comes close to or effectively leads
to a useless regress that might as well be cut off from the beginning.
But if we cut it off, we have to look for an alternative account.
If the soul belongs to those things for which it doesn’t make
sense to apply terms of life and death, which kind of entity is it? Life
and death do not apply to stones and energy waves either. Seriously
speaking, the terms do not apply to things that are just subjects in
stories invented by us. And they do not apply to abstract entities,
such as numbers, concepts, theories and so on. Matter and form are
abstract entities if we consider them in distinction to that of which
they are matter or form. If the soul is the form of a body, is it an
abstract entity in this sense? It then would not be mortal, but it
would not be immortal either. Abstract entities are neither mortal
nor immortal, just as they are neither living nor dead. It is just of no
use to apply terms of that kind to them.
According to Farabi, there is a different situation in the case of
the soul. As the soul is not only the act of life in a potentially living
organic natural body, but also the act of perception and understand-
ding in a potentially sensitive or intellectual being, it is in itself

thought to consist of matter and form. The different levels of intel-
lect in the soul are clearly taken to be different relations of matter
and form within that soul, where the acquired intellect is the matter
for the active intellect, whereas the acquired intellect is form for the
intellect in act, which in turn is the form for the potential intellect
(Farabi 1938, p. 23-24, nn. 30-31). The potential intellect is material
by definition, but it is obvious that this potential intellect is the form
for the perceptive and imaginative dispositions of the sensitive soul.
Therefore, the soul in itself is probably the act of the potentially
living organic natural body, but it nevertheless falls under the defi-
nition of a substance.
Ibn Sina, who knows Alexander’s position, arrives at a totally
different conclusion, using in part the same premises, but also the
reflections of Farabi. Although he admits his indebtedness to Farabi,
he of course develops a lot of ideas of his own. This is especially so
with the famous argument of the human being that is created in the
air, which in my view gained the greatest importance in Western
philosophy. If one might hesitate whether Farabi conceives of the
soul as a substance of its own or just a form of a very special charac-
ter, it is clear that Ibn Sina can be interpreted as making a sharp di-
stinction between two kinds of substances, corporeal and intellectu-
al. The distinction is based on two alleged facts, namely the utter
difference between predicates used for properties of the body and
those used for mental or intellectual activities and properties, and
the fact that a human being would be aware of her or his mental and
intellectual activities even if she or he had no access to any corporeal
relations. A human being, created in the air without any contact
with anything corporeal would nevertheless be aware of its being
there and of its thoughts (Avicenna 1972, part 1, c. 1, p. 36-p. 37).
This is a result of the other great difference between perception
and intellect. Whereas perception consists in the actualization of its
entire possibility, as pointed out above, the intellect’s possibility is
never completely absorbed. If the intellect acquires a universal form,
its potency for that form is actualized and the form exists in a new
way in the intellect, different from the way in which it exists in its
130 Hans Kraml
proper matter, but nevertheless as the same form. But as the

potentiality of the intellect is not transformed into actuality in its
entirety, but only for that specific form, there remains potency in the
intellect that can be actualized by the intelligible form as it is in the
intellect. In this way the intellect has insight into that which it
grasps intellectually, and as this is identical with the intellect, the
intellect intellectually grasps itself. This is the basis for the reflective
self-awareness of the intellect and of the intellect’s awareness of
other states of the soul. In this sense, the intellect is finally self-con-
tained.
Ibn Sina uses this example as a refutation of scepticism, as it is
used by Descartes much later, but it is used in the same sense in the
middle ages in Europe, for example by John Duns Scotus. The main
point in these theories is the autonomy of the mental sphere in
general. The arguments for the separation between the corporeal
and the mental sphere are used even today in works on the
philosophy of mind in Analytical Philosophy (for example by Chal-
mers). But the character of the different predicates makes clear that
the situation is difficult. Predicates characterizing states and proper-
ties of bodies play their role in contexts of the use of material objects
and the cooperation of human beings in the external world, whereas
typically mental predicates have to do with the field of the coordi-
nation of activities, with communication and dispositions that are
relevant for mutual understanding. Is this difference usefully and
suitably described by postulating two different spheres of entities,
two very different kinds of substances?
In the course of the discussion of the problem of the soul and the
intellect—two spheres of problems that are never separated and that
probably should not really be separated, even if they should be kept
distinct—it was Ibn Rushd for the Western world who insisted on a
reading of Aristotle that concentrated on the Aristotelian writings
alone without bringing in the different interpretations with their
eventually rather apologetic tendencies. In the course of his inter-
pretations of Aristotle’s “On the Soul” he realized that there were
several interpretations possible, but these interpretations were not
altogether in favour of certain religiously motivated ideas. If the in-
tellect grasps that which is universal in all the individual things with
which a being that is able to take notice of its surroundings and to
get knowledge of its world is confronted, then this intellect grasps
that which is universal generally. If this intellect according to Ari-
stotle is identical with that which it grasps, if the intellect is that
which is intellectually cognized, and if this is universal, then the
intellect itself is universal. And this is the possible intellect. The
result of Averroes’ reading of Aristotle was that the intellect is not
that which individualizes human beings or whatever beings at all.
Therefore the immortality of the intellect has nothing to do with the
immortality of the soul, and if that immortality depends on the uni-
versality of the intellect, then it is not an immortality of the
individual soul (Averroes 1562, lib. 3, text. 5, 149 va F).
In fact, if the soul according to Aristotle is the act of a potentially
living body, it could not be a substance, because it constitutes a
substance. One would have to plead for a special sort of substance,
for example human beings, the form of which could in itself be a
substance, constituted of matter and form. Both options, the soul as
a substance and the soul as mere form, were taken into account in
the course of history, and there are two different stances, one
systematic, the other interpretative of Aristotle’s theory.
The problem is not easy to be settle—if it can be settled at all,
because its solution would need the clarification of the different
premises and presuppositions behind the problem. I myself am
presently trying to stay with the idea of the soul as the form of any
being that can be considered as having a soul. This would be a
dispositional interpretation of the soul’s capacities and an actuali-
zing interpretation of the soul’s proper function. That means that it
is the whole substance that is acting in growth, perception and intel-
lectual cognition, and such a substance is for instance every human
being. Anything like the immortality of the act of such a being is not
really understandable. How about the religious theme behind that?
To put it again with Ibn Rushd: The religious question is that of the
resurrection of the human being (Ibn Ruschd 1875, 118). Whether
there is something like an immortal soul or not, and what the term
“soul” means, is a philosophical question that is to be tackled with
132 Hans Kraml
philosophical means alone. The assumption of an immortal soul in

the Neoplatonic sense is not essential to any religious belief, on the
contrary, rather.
The viability of such an approach is open to question, at any rate.
References
Farabi (1938) Risalat fi’l-‛aql. Texte arabe intégral, établi par

Maurice Bouyges, S.J., Beyrouth: Imprimerie catholique.
Averroes (1562) In Aristotelis “De anima”, Venetiis: Apud Iunctas.
Avicenna (1972) Liber de anima seu Sextus de Naturalibus, ed. S.
van Riet, Bd. 1, Löwen-Leiden: Brill.
Carnap, R. (1978) “Dispositions and Definitions”, in R. Tuomela
(ed.) Dispositions (Synthese Library Vol. 113), Dordrecht: Reidel,
3-16.
Ibn Ruschd (1875) Kitab al-Kaschf, ed. Marcus J. Müller, München:
G. Franz.
Théry, G. (1926) “Texte du De intellectu et intellecto”, in Autour du
Décret de 1210: II. Alexandre d’Aphrodise. Aperçu sur l’influence
de sa noétique, Kain: Le Saulchoir, 74-82.
A Muslim’s Spirit
Muhammad Legenhausen, Qom
OH HOW colorless
and formless
I am!
When will I ever see the am that I am?
You said: The Soul,

The secrets that you know, bring forth, put out, talk up!
Dispositi
Where is up
or forthon or
within this middle
Substanc
that I am?
When will my soul be still?
It movese?when motionless,
the animal I am.
My sea has drowned within itself;
what a strange and shoreless sea
I am!
Not in this world

not in the next should you seek me out;
both this and that have vanished
in the world I am.
Like non-existence
nothing profits me
and nothing harms—
What a wondrous useless-harmless thing
I am!
I said
Friend, you are just like me!
(Rumi, Dīvān-e Shams, Ghazal 1759,
translated by Lewis 2008, 159)
134 Muhammad Legenhausen
1. Introduction
A topic that has gathered attention in recent years among philo-

sophers of religion in the West is that of the nature of the soul. Of
course, the topic itself is anything but new, and even a visit of
Western philosophers to Iran where the nature of the soul would be
discussed is said to have taken place some time during the sixth cen-
tury during the reign of the Sassanid king, Khosroe I. The visit is
said to have taken place after Justinian closed the Academy in 529
(reported in Agathias 1975 II:29-31). There is currently a debate
about whether Christian beliefs about the immortality of the soul
and the rewards and punishments of the afterlife require the Carte-
sian substance dualism with which these doctrines have come to be
associated. Opponents of dualism have argued that the Aristotelian
hylomorphic account of substances and his theory of the soul as
entelechy were accepted by Christian theologians and philosophers
before Descartes, and do not require dualism (see Runggaldier
2006). Christian materialists have argued that versions of the hylo-
morphic account are compatible with materialism. Defenders of
dualism have argued that versions of dualism can be formulated that
avoid the objectionable features of Cartesian dualism. (See Zimmer-
man’s defense of “emergent dualism” in Peterson and VanArragon
2004, 315-326.)
In Islamic philosophy, it is possible to find positions that are ve-
ry similar to those that have been proposed by Christian philoso-
phers. There are Muslim defenders of materialistic theories, as well
as dualists. There are those who consider the soul to be an entele-
chy, and those who consider it to be an immaterial substance that is
temporarily attached to the body. Of course, this is not to say that
the theories in Christian and Islamic philosophy correspond exactly.
There are subtle differences that would repay comparative study,
but the main lines of argument are roughly similar.
There are exceptions to this rough correspondence, the most im-
portant of which is the theory of the soul elaborated by Mulla Sadra.
In what follows, I will attempt to outline the main structural fea-
tures of Mulla Sadra’s theory of the soul after surveying the theolo-
gical and philosophical background.
2. Theological Constraints on a Theory of the Soul
Every language has its own terms that are used to describe the self.
In English we have: self, soul, spirit, mind, and sometimes borrowed
from the Greek, psychē. In Qur’ānic Arabic there are nafs and rūḥ.
The terms nafs, spirit and psychē seem related by the pneumatic
imagery in their etymologies. The breath is nafas. In this respect,
however, nafs and rūḥ are also rather close. There is pneumatic
imagery in the etymologies of both. Rūḥ means spirit and rīḥ means
wind. Usually, nafs is translated as soul or self while rūḥ is reserved
for spirit. However, I will use “spirit” for the eternal element of the
human that is subject to reward and punishment because of the si-
milar etymological association of both with breathing. This element
is sometimes called rūḥ in Islamic texts, although in the Qur’ān, rūḥ
is used for the spirit of God, for the Holy Spirit (rūḥ al-qudūs), and
for other divinely sent spirits, and never for the spirit of an indivi-
dual human being. The breath provides a link between the soul of
man and God’s spirit, because it is through the breathing of the spi-
rit of God into clay that the human being is created. When your
Lord said to the angels, ‘Indeed I am about to create a human being
out of clay.| So when I have proportioned him and breathed into
him of My spirit, then fall down in prostration before him.’ (38:71-
72) (Also see Qur’ān (15:29).)
Although rūḥ is not used for the human spirit in the Qur’ān, this
usage is found in narrations in abundance. One can also find it in
early theological works, for example, in Shaykh Ṣadūq’s creed of the
4th/10th century, we find:
Our belief regarding souls (nafs, pl. nufūs) is that they are the spirit
(rūḥ, pl. arwāḥ) by which life (ḥayāt) is maintained, and they were the
first of created things (Shaykh Ṣadūq 1982, 45-46).
Shaykh Ṣadūq continues that the souls were created to be lasting

(baqā’) and not for perishing (fanā’). He narrates from the Prophet
(ṣ) that you were created to last and not for perishing, and that the
souls are imprisoned in their bodies. After their separation from
their bodies, they survive and receive divine rewards or punish-
ments. However, the hadith cited by Shaykh Ṣadūq is not strongly
authenticated, and some have argued that since in the Qur’ān it is
written Everyone on it [the earth] is perishing, yet lasting is the
face of your Lord (55:26-27), the souls should be understood as
perishing and not as eternal (Shaykh Ṣadūq 1982, 46, 130). Others
held that “perishing” can be interpreted as losing corporeal exis-
tence, that the verse attributes “perishing” only to things on the
earth, and hence not immaterial souls, and there were numerous
other interpretations about how to understand mortality, the soul,
and the “face” of God (which, according to some narrations, indica-
ted the members of the family of the Prophet (ṣ), the Ahl al-Bayt)
(see Kāshānī 1982, Vol. 5, 110).
Some of the early Shi‘ah held that the human soul was an atom
of an ethereal substance or a subtle body that existed from pre-
eternity and that it cannot be destroyed; and there are even indica-
tions that some believed in reincarnation and metempsychosis,
although such beliefs were later rejected by such scholars as Shaykh
Mufīd (d. 413/1022) whose condemnation came to be accepted by
the majority.
According to Shaykh Mufīd, man is not a material composite, but
is essentially a soul that is brought into existence by God
concurrently with its body. The soul is a living simple substance in
which there is no movement or rest, composition, bulk or extension
(McDermott 1986, 223). Mufīd is careful to distinguish the life of
the soul from corporeal life and defines the living as that which is
knowing and able. Mufīd also takes care to make explicit that the
soul is dependent on God for its existence at every moment, even
though it continues eternally. In his elaboration of his theory, Mufīd
opposed the material theories of the soul that were current among
the Mu‘tazilites and some of the other Shi‘ah.
While Mufīd may have been successful in refuting reincarnation,

other than that, he was not able to establish a universally accepted
Shi‘ite orthodox position on the subject. By the time of Mufīd,
however, the main problems that any theory of the soul would have
to confront were recognized. The most import of these problems
were also the focus of attention of Christian theologians:
1. the soul is post-eternally immortal;

2. the soul is subject to punishment and reward in an after-
life;
3. there is a general bodily resurrection.
In addition to these common issues, there are also some features of

the discussions of the soul among Muslims that differ from those of
Christendom. First, the afterlife is described in the Qur’ān and ha-
diths much more graphically and sensually than it is in Christian
sources; however, this is not generally understood as having any
specific theological or philosophical consequences, and is usually ex-
plained in terms of the limited ability of the masses of believers for
abstract thinking. Second, and more importantly, there is reference
in the Qur’ān to a kind of individual existence prior to birth: When
your Lord took from the Children of Adam, from their loins, their
descendants and made them bear witness over themselves, ‘Am I
not your Lord?’ They said, ‘Yes, indeed! We bear witness.’ lest you
should say on the Day of Resurrection, ‘Indeed, we were unaware of
this,’ (7:172). There are also numerous narrations, especially in the
Shi‘ite collections, about the pre-existence of the Prophet and
Imams. Perhaps the most commonly cited of these is the following
saying attributed to the Prophet Muḥammad (ṣ): “I was a prophet
when Adam was between water and clay” (Kāshānī 2007, 77, citing
Biḥār al-Anwār, Vol. 61, 232). These allusions to a pre-corporeal exi-
stence have been subject to much controversy. Some take the texts
to be presenting parables, while others take them quite literally. In
any case, anyone who wants to present a theory of the soul in Isla-
mic theology must take the issue of pre-corporeal existence into
consideration.
There are other issues relevant to the soul, as well, on which

Muslims have views that differ from Christians, such as the Return
(raj‘ah)—according to which the best and the worst of men will be
raised from the dead before the general resurrection for a final
battle—but these differences do not pose any particular philoso-
phical problems that do not otherwise arise.
3. Philosophical Issues Pertaining to the Soul
The history of Islamic philosophy of the soul is extremely complica-

ted. In addition to the works of Aristotle and his commentators, the
Muslim philosophers made extensive use of the neo-Platonic traditi-
on. As a result, souls were generally seen as entelechies, as in Ari-
stotle, and were analyzed into vegetable, animal and rational as-
pects, according to the type of perfection under consideration. The
organism has the perfection of nutrition and growth because of the
vegetable soul; it senses and moves because of the animal soul; and
it knows universals and acts through the exercise of the will due to
the rational soul. The vegetable, animal and rational souls constitute
a hierarchy in which each higher soul includes those below it. Hen-
ce, the human soul is the rational soul, which also includes the
vegetable and animal souls. However, with respect to human beings,
the term “soul” (nafs) is sometimes used inclusively for the rational,
animal and vegetable soul, and sometimes specifically for the ratio-
nal soul to the exclusion of the principles of the other, lesser, perfec-
tions (see Inati 1998).
Following John Philoponus and Alexander Aphrodisias, (accor-
ding to Ivry 2008), the intellect was divided into practical and
theoretical, and the theoretical was divided into potential (hylic or
material), habitual, actual, and acquired intellects, associated with
the successively advanced cognitive functions. With the perfection of
the acquired intellect comes a union or unification (ittiṣāl or ittiḥād,
for Ibn Sīnā and Mulla Sadra, respectively) with the Active Intellect,
which is understood as the final emanation from God that governs
the sublunary sphere. In this way, Islamic psychology of the soul
was connected to cosmology and doctrines concerning the celestial

spheres. (For a sustained defense of the linkage between Islamic
cosmology and the science of the soul, see Chittick 2007.)
All of this is very far from the perspective of contemporary
philosophy. The philosophy of mind, as it came to be called in the
20th century, begins with Cartesian dualism: extended or material
substance is contrasted with non-extended mental substance. It is in
terms of this contrast that the mind-body problem is formulated.
The positions that can be taken include reductive and eliminative
materialism, type and token identity theories, and various forms of
functionalism and supervenience theories, in addition to various
formulations of dualism. If we try to find a place for the likes of
Mulla Sadra among these alternatives, we will be frustrated. This
sort of frustration can also be found among scholars who have
sought to classify Aristotle as a materialist, only to find his state-
ments about the immateriality of the intellect (nous) awkward (see
Hartman 1977, 266-269). It may be better to insist that the Aristote-
lian position constitutes a third alternative to physicalism and dua-
lism (see Runggaldier 2006).
Aside from the question of how to classify positions, and que-
stions about the relationship between the soul and the body, the
philosophical problems that should be treated by a theory of the soul
include those of personal identity, persistence and/or endurance,
separability, indexicality, agency, and cognition. These issues will
arise in some form regardless of the philosophical traditions from
which the theory arises.
4. Philosophical Theology of the Soul
Regardless of philosophical and theological traditions, contempora-

ry theories of the soul generally seem to coalesce into three main
groups: materialist (or physicalist), dualist, and hylomorphic,
although there are also less fashionable alternatives, such as idea-
lism and neutral monism. (Donald Davidson once agreed (in
conversation) that he could be considered a neutral monist.) These
should not be taken to be mutually exclusive, for there are materi-

alist and dualist interpretations of hylomorphism. (In his response
to Lynne Rudder Baker, Dean Zimmerman argues that hylomor-
phism is ultimately a form of dualism. See the contributions of
Baker and Zimmerman to Peterson and VanArragon 2004, 315-
344.) In both the Christian and Islamic traditions we can find all
three major approaches to the soul, although even when the basic
strategies are the same, some trends can be found among the differ-
rences in the details.
Most of the Muslim philosophers espoused some form of hylo-
morphic entelechy theory. They defined the soul as a perfection
(kamāl, entelecheia) by which an organism has life (as described by
Ivry 2008). Ibn Sīnā, however, claimed that there are two kinds of
entelechy: first, the form of a living body that is inseparable from it,
such as the vegetable and animal souls; and, second, the human soul
which is in itself immaterial and separable from the body, and not to
be considered a form of the body (see Rahman 1975, 196; Davidson
1992, 83). Both are considered entelechies, or perfections, because
the human being is born with the capacity for the realization of the
acquired intellect. The immateriality of the human soul is proved by
means of the famous “suspended man” argument. So, from this
point onward through the history of Islamic philosophy, there is a
distinctive immateriality associated with the human soul that is
proven through introspection, that is, through the phenomenology
of awareness of the self without regard to the body. Although the
analogies between Ibn Sīnā’s position and Descartes’ have fre-
quently been pointed out, (e.g., by Davidson 1992, 83n), the dif-
ferences are also important. (For an extended historical discussion
that traces the common idea found in Augustine, Ibn Sīnā, and Des-
cartes to Porphry, see Sorabji 2006, 222-229.) The main objection
that has been raised against Cartesian dualism is the problem of the
interaction between the mental and the physical. For the ancient,
medieval, and Islamic philosophers, however, the issue was scarcely
raised. Why? Part of the answer, no doubt, is to be found in the non-
mechanistic philosophies of nature that were dominant, but part of
the answer may lie in the general assumptions of hylomorphic
theory: the immaterial is form and is active, while the corporeal is

matter and passive. Cartesian dualists divided the world into exten-
ded substances and non-extended substances and pondered how
they could interact, while previous philosophers saw the material
world as the lowest and most receptive to various forms and
principles.
Instead of Cartesian dualism, Muslim philosophers after Sohra-
vardi divided the world into four realms. The lowest realm was the
corporeal world, and the highest was that of the immaterial
intellects. The second highest world contained intellects attached to
celestial spheres or to human bodies, and below this was the world
of images, the imaginal world. The imaginal world was also intro-
duced by Ibn ‘Arabi, and became an element in the metaphysics of
theoretical mysticism (see Walbridge 1992, 149-159).
The influence of Sufi ideas becomes especially pronounced in the
work of Mulla Sadra, who finds a place in his philosophy for the sort
of dynamism expressed most famously in the following couplets by
Mawlavī Jalāl al-Dīn Rūmī:
I died to mineral, joined the realm of plants

I died to vegetable, joined animal
I died in the animal realm, became man
So why fear? When has dying made me less?
(Mathnavi 3:3901-2, translated in Lewis 2000, 417)
In Mulla Sadra’s philosophy, the doctrine of substantial motion is

not only a metaphysical thesis about the nature of contingent exi-
stence, it also incorporates the ideas of the Sufi tradition about
spiritual wayfaring into philosophy. The spiritual journey has onto-
logical consequences for the nature of the self.
Since the most distinctive answers to the question of the nature
of the soul that are to be found in Islamic philosophy are formulated
in the works of Mulla Sadra, we should turn next to the main
principles of his view.
5. Mulla Sadra on the Soul
According to Mulla Sadra, not only humans and animals, but rather
all corporeal existents, even rocks, exist in the material and non-
material realms. The human soul has its beginnings in material
existence, but it evolves beyond the material and achieves eternal
immateriality just as the fetus begins its existence with the womb of
its mother but develops in such a way as to achieve a separate
existence. This idea is encapsulated in the slogan that the soul is
corporeal in origin but spiritual in survival (jismānīyat al-ḥudūth wa
rūḥānīyat al-baqā’).
Mulla Sadra summarizes his theory of the soul in his al-Ḥikmat
al-‘Arshīyah (The Wisdom of the Throne), and we may summarize
this summary as follows.
The soul begins its existence as a corporeal substance, where it
begins its course of development as corporeal power, natural form,
then sensible soul with various levels, then the cognitive and
reflective soul, and finally the rational soul. The practical intellect is
succeeded by the theoretical intellect which rises through the four
stages until it reaches the Active Intellect, although this stage is
actually achieved by very few human beings.
The five perceptual senses are generally thought to perceive what
is in external objects through the bodily organs. In fact, however,
what is perceived are luminous images in another world that belong
to the qualities peculiar to the soul. The perceptual powers do not
subsist through the organs of perception, but the organs subsist
through the powers. Here Sadra offers a proof: the perceived and
the perceiving cannot be in two different worlds, but the self that
perceives is and what is perceived are in the same world of the soul.
This may sound like idealism, but Mulla Sadra does not deny
material existence. It is not that we are acquainted only with ideas,
but rather that even material things have their perceptual aspects
that are no mere epiphenomena but indications of the more sublime
levels of their existence. In vision, for example, specific conditions in
the soul and in the external world of bodies give rise to the ap-
pearance of suspended forms in the soul, images in the imaginal
world. The imaginal world of the soul is at the same time tran-
scendent with respect to the physical world, but also including it.
The difference between this realm and the purely intellectual realm
is that the soul and its world are generated while the intellect has
become separate from generated being. What is perceived subsists
in the soul as the act subsists through its agent. He continues:
The complete manifestation of these forms and the perfection of the

power of their being occurs only after death. (This is true) to such a
degree that compared to the forms man will see after death, the forms
he sees in this world are like dreams. This is why the Commander of
the truly faithful (the Imam Ali)—Peace be with him!—said: “Mankind
are sleeping; when they die, they awaken.” Then the Unseen becomes
directly visible, and knowledge becomes immediate vision. In this is
the secret of the “Return” and the resurrection of the body (Mulla
Sadra 1981, 138. Mulla Sadra also has a commentary on the hadiths of
awakening mentioned here that is discussed in Rustom 2007.).
In this is also the secret of why Mulla Sadra’s views on this topic
have been anathematized by some conservative clerics, for he is
saying that the resurrection of the body will take place only in the
imaginal world, and not in the physical world as we now know it.
Mulla Sadra rejects the analogies of the soul to the captain of a
ship, because of the hylomorphic origination of the soul. Until the
soul evolves into intellect, it can have no being except as the entele-
chy of the natural organism. However, the soul can undergo sub-
stantial change and be transformed into an independent immaterial
intellect.
Regarding the pre-existence of the soul, Mulla Sadra also rejects
a literalistic interpretation of the relevant ayah of the Qur’ān men-
tioned earlier (7:172) and narrations. In the Wisdom of the Throne,
he merely states that he has answered the question of how to
interpret the religious claims elsewhere and lists the ayah and
narrations. In the Asfār, however, he explains that the pre-existence
of souls is not as separately existing entities, but only as suspended
separate intellectual forms in the world of divine knowledge (Mulla
Sadra 1990, Vol. 8, 332).
Mulla Sadra cites the Theology of Aristotle (i.e., Plotinus) as

correctly holding that in the world of divine knowledge there is an
intelligible man, horse, plants, earth, hell, and heaven. But between
the intelligible man and the corporeal man, there is also the man of
soul, a man of the isthmus (barzakh). (For more on this notion, see
Massi Dakake 2004.) The man of soul is essentially alive and, like
the bodily man and the intelligible man, is a substance. Initially, all
of these souls coincide,
because the soul, at the beginning of its generation (with a particular

body), is in actuality a form of perfection for sensible matter. But at the
same time the soul is spiritual matter with the capacity of receiving and
being united with an intellective form, thereby emerging from potency
into actuality—or a delusive Satanic form, or that of a brutish or
predatory animal (Mulla Sadra 1981, 145).
Mulla Sadra argues against a literal interpretation of the bodily

resurrection, because it would imply a kind of transmigration of
souls, which he has argued is impossible. Instead, he holds that the
resurrection occurs in another “configuration” (nash’ah), not in the
physical external world. Against those who argue that this makes the
resurrection merely something imaginary, Mulla Sadra’s position is
that the other configuration will be more real, more intense in
existence, than the world as we know it. Morris translates the rele-
vant passage as: “But the transmigration of souls is impossible,
while the corporeal resurrection (in the ‘spiritual body’) is actually
happening” (Mulla Sadra 1981, 146. What he translates as “actually
happening” might also be put as “real” (wāqi‘). Cf. Mulla Sadra 1962,
25.). The soul can take on various forms, angelic or fiendish in ac-
cordance with the record of one’s deeds in this world, without any
transmigration of the soul from one body to another in the physical
world.
But it is one of the properties of the soul, in its state of connection with
matter, that it can take on and be united with one form after another.
Moreover, the corporeal form, although in actuality a form for
corporeal matter, is also potentially an intelligible (Mulla Sadra 1981,

147).
The man of soul or man of the isthmus is described as being at the

edge between the sensible corporeal world and the spiritual intel-
ligible world.
Thus the soul is the junction of the two seas (18:59) of corporeal and
spiritual things; its being the last of the corporeal realities is a sign of
its being the first of the spiritual ones. If you consider its substance in
this world, you will find it the principle of all the bodily powers,
employing all the animal and vegetal forms in its service. But if you
consider its substance in the world of the Intellect, you will find that at
the beginning of its fundamental nature it is pure potential without any
form in that world; but it has the capability of moving from potency to
actuality with regard to the Intellect and the intelligible. Its initial
relation to the form of that world (of the Intellect) is that of the seed to
its fruit, or of the embryo to the animal: just as the embryo is in
actuality an embryo, and an animal only potentially, so (at first) the
soul is in actuality a mere mortal man, but potentially a (realized)
Intellect (Mulla Sadra 1981, 148-149).
Mulla Sadra continues to explain that the Prophet Muḥammad (ṣ) is

“a mere mortal like you” (18:110) with regard to potential, but that
he is above other creatures insofar as his soul has been raised by
God to actuality.
Against Alexander Aphrodisias, Mulla Sadra argues that
although few human beings attain the full realization of intellectual
being, this does not mean—as Alexander thought, and as Ibn Sīnā
was inclined to think—that those who fall short are destroyed by
physical death, for the man of soul survives in an imaginal world
that will be hellish or heavenly. In this way, there is no need to posit
a vaporous or smoky body to which the soul attaches after death, or
attaching the souls to heavenly bodies (as Sohravardi thought). The
above summarizes Part II. A of The Wisdom of the Throne. Part B is
mostly about the bodily resurrection, but it also contains much
material of philosophical interest.
6. Mulla Sadra’s Position on Issues in the Philosophy of the Soul
Here, some clarity may be gained on Sadra’s position by reviewing

the main lines he takes on various controversies.
1. Is Mulla Sadra a dualist? I find it tempting to read Mulla Sadra
as a kind of absolute idealist, and Fazlur Rahman (1975, 267-268)
has also noted the affinities with Hegel, although the similarity he
points out is the dynamism rather than the idealism. Ultimately,
what is real for Mulla Sadra is existence, and substance is a category
of quiddity or whatness. Differences among whatnesses only occur
because of the limitations that are projected onto existence due to its
varying degrees. So, even if there is a kind of substance dualism in
Mulla Sadra, underlying it is a more comprehensive monism. With
regard to substance, Mulla Sadra does not see substances as falling
primarily into two categories, material and immaterial, but into a
whole range of categories from that which is primarily corporeal and
whose immaterial aspects are weak to that which is primarily
intellectual. So, we might better call Mulla Sadra a substance plu-
ralist rather than a dualist, but where the elements in the plurality
are divisions in a continuum.
2. What is the principle for the individuation of souls in Mulla
Sadra? For Mulla Sadra, like earlier Muslim philosophers, the
principle of individuation is existence itself. This sounds parado-
xical, because one will object that existence is common to all existing
entities and so that it cannot serve to individuate them. To the
contrary, Mulla Sadra holds that it is only by virtue of existence that
a thing becomes completely determinate. Without existence, no
(finite?) set of physical or mental conditions can guarantee unique-
ness, but by virtue of existence, an entity becomes fully determinate.
This is true of entities generally, and so, also, of souls.
3. What are the conditions for diachronic personal identity? For
Mulla Sadra, diachronic identity is maintained through continuity of
movement. There need be no commitment to haecceities (thisnes-
ses) or to any other such criteria as have been proposed, such as
maintaining the same matter, or the persistence of memory.
4. Are souls immaterial, according to Mulla Sadra? According to

Mulla Sadra, one cannot call the soul material or immaterial. There
are both material and immaterial souls of various levels. The human
soul begins its existence as the entelechy of a human organism;
however this principle has the capacity to develop into a purely
immaterial intellect.
5. How can immaterial souls interact with bodies? This is some-
thing that is not entirely clear to me yet, but here is my guess at
what Mulla Sadra would say. The immaterial can influence the body
because the body is receptive of the forms introduced by the intel-
lect. How this introduction takes place is through conditions that
God sets up in the configurations of the various realms of being. The
influence of the physical on the immaterial is due to the perceptive
nature of the intellect to perceive physical forms. Again, the details
are left rather vague and concern the structure of the configurations.
6. Where does the soul go after the death of the body? The soul
doesn’t really “go” anywhere. With the death of the body, the soul
becomes immaterial, but it continues in an atemporal manner to
contain within it the forms of divine reward, punishment, bodily
resurrection, and forms of temporal succession. However, the bo-
dies and times of the afterlife are not entities within the living cor-
poreal world.
7. How can indexicality and the first-person perspective be
understood in Mulla Sadra’s philosophy? For Mulla Sadra, being
and consciousness coincide. The first person perspective is a result
of an intensity of being or consciousness given a specific location in
space and time. The first person perspective, according to Mulla
Sadra, is not fixed by any material or mental conditions, but evolves
in accordance with natural development and the choices a person
makes through life.
7. Reflections on Mulla Sadra’s Theory of the Soul
There is a problem that Mulla Sadra faces with orthodoxy, because

the sort of rewards and punishments of the afterlife described in the
Qur’ān seem to be physical, while the philosophical understanding

of the issue presented by Mulla Sadra is one in which there is
nothing physical in the afterlife, only the imaginal reflections of
physicality. This, however, is a problem that many philosophical
approaches to religion face. Any philosophical explanation will meet
with condemnation from those who cling to the outward aspects of
religion alone.
What Mulla Sadra attempts is a grand metaphysics with an in-
tegrated concept of the soul. He seeks to incorporate into his ac-
count the main points needed for Shi‘ite theology, plus what is nee-
ded to answer the deficiencies he sees in previous Islamic philoso-
phy.
The structural elements in Sadra’s theory consist in replace-
ments of dualities by differences of degree. It is not only humans,
but even inanimate objects that have souls. The person and the rock
are both body and spirit. A thing is body insofar as it is to be
understood in terms of physical laws and theories. To the extent that
an understanding of the thing eludes the merely physical, it is non-
physical. For the rock, there is little about it we seek to understand
that cannot be answered by facts about its mass, weight, shape, and
composition, all of which come under the purview of physical
theory. But there is more: there is the beauty of the stone, its indivi-
dual history with all the peculiarities of circumstance and odd
coincidence that no theory can explain. Nevertheless, the spiritual
aspect of the stone is rather minimal. To understand an animal,
however, we require more than physics. It has a biological existence
as well as a physical existence. These are not two separate existen-
ces, stuck together or interacting through glands and organs. In-
stead of dividing up the world, as Descartes tried to do, into exten-
ded and non-extended substances, with our bodies on the side of the
rocks and our minds on the side of the angels, we are invited by
Sadra to consider all corporeal entities as having various levels of
existence of various strengths. The human being has a corporeal
existence, an imaginal existence, and a spiritual existence, and with
the death of the body, there is no death of the soul, no death of the
self, for the immaterial aspects of the self remain.
The gradual shift of the self from the material while retaining the
first person perspective captures an important part of the Islamic
mystical tradition that informs Mulla Sadra’s view of the self. But it
is practical rather than metaphysical, or rather the practical is given
a metaphysical interpretation in the works of Mulla Sadra. This
opens up a number of possibilities. Given that the metaphysical
claims are extremely difficult to argue decisively, I think there are
two main options: (1) agnosticism with respect to the metaphysics of
the soul; (2) a reduction of the metaphysics of the soul to its practi-
cal/spiritual components. Agnosticism is safer, and reductionism is
more challenging. This leads me to think that it might be best to opt
for a tentative reductionism.
This means that to say that the soul has various levels of imma-
teriality is equivalent to saying that it is possible for a person to ab-
stract from the self from various aspects of the physical while re-
taining the first person perspective toward the result.
In this sense, with regard to immortality, the soul is indeed im-
mortal, but not in the sense that it continues forever in time, but in
the sense that there are stages of the soul that transcend our time
and space, and further stages that transcend time and space alto-
gether. The ultimate felicity is to join somehow in the being of God.
For those who fail to achieve this state of awareness, however, pos-
sibilities for eternal felicity or damnation remain. Felicity and dam-
nation are determined by how we live our lives in this world, the
world of our actions. Our heaven or hell is the imaginal reflection of
the actions we perform in this world.
Although there are various reasonable objections that can be
raised against this view, and much in it that requires further elabo-
ration and revision, I think in rough outline it is not altogether
implausible, and it may succeed in helping us to view the soul, the
self, who we are, in a manner that avoids the pitfalls associated with
some of the more common rival theories.
Appendix:
Mulla Sadra on the Soul in the Asfār
Here I will provide a translation of the names of each part (bāb) and
chapter (faṣl) of the last two volumes (8 and 9) of Mulla Sadra’s
Asfār that are relevant to his conception of the soul. Volume 8 of the
Asfār begins the fourth journey: “On the science of the soul, from
the source of its origins, (1) from the corporeal content to its final
stages, (2) and its return to its ultimate end.”
Part 1: On the general precepts of the soul

Chapter 1: On defining the soul
Chapter 2: On the whatness of the absolute soul
Part 2: On the whatness of the animal soul, an explanation of its
substantiality and abstractness.
Chapter 1: On its substantiality
Chapter 2: On the abstractness of the animal soul, for which
there are numerous proofs
Chapter 3: On the rejection of what skeptics have mentioned
against the substantiality of the soul
Chapter 4: On the number of the faculties of the soul stemming
from it in the body
Chapter 5: On a rule from which the number of faculties can be
known
Part 3: On mention of the vegetative faculties, their actions and
states
Chapter 1: On the division of these faculties, in general
Chapter 2: On the action of digestion, on the excretion of
excrement, an indication of the existence of the repulsive
faculty, an admonition about changing these four, and the
determination of the instruments of the organs
Chapter 3: On that these faculties are compound in some
organs, on the truth of food and the stages of digestion, similar
to what some of the naturalists (physicians) have truly said
Chapter 4: On the stages of digestion, and that digestion has

four stages
Chapter 5: On defining the nutritive faculty and the faculty of
growth defined to account for its truth
Chapter 6: On the causes for the stopping of such faculties as
that of growth and nutrition as required by death
Chapter 7: On the verification of what is said about the faculty
of formation (muṣawwarah)
Chapter 8: An indication of the number of the faculties of the
soul and what is outside of them by reason of production
Chapter 9: On there being a single soul for each body, and how
the mentioned faculties arise from the soul, and that they are
the elaboration in detail of the essence of it, and the descrip-
tions of its identity
Chapter 10: On some of these stages of the soul being prior to
others in coming about
Chapter 11: A last way of the number of the human faculties ac-
cording to the procedure of the folk of insight
Chapter 12: On what is the first of the organs that comes into
being
Chapter 13: On the dependence of the rational soul on the body
Chapter 14: On the differences of the faculties
Chapter 15: On the proof of the animal faculties of man
Part 4: From the science of the soul on the states of the faculties per-
taining to the animal souls which are those from which arise
outward perceptions, and from which arise inward perceptions, and
these are very close to the world of the malakūt, and from them are
the motions of the will, and it comes down in degrees from its
source in summary perceptions
Chapter 1: On indicating these faculties and all the benefits of
them in summary
Chapter 2: On touch and its states
Chapter 3: On taste and some discussions of it
Chapter 4: On smell
Chapter 5: On hearing
Chapter 6: On seeing
Chapter 7: On what the impression theorists rely upon, and

what following that, what is said against them, and mention of
a proof of refutation
Chapter 8: On what is said by the ray theorists
Chapter 9: On the reason for the states and what is real in the
dispute between the ray theorists and the impression theorists
on the reasons for the states
Chapter 10: On the necessity of seeing by means of transparent
bodies
Chapter 11: On the senses being exclusively the five
Chapter 12: On what is common to the sensibles
Part 5: Of the science of the soul on inner perceptions
Chapter 1: On the sensus communis and its being named
nabṭāsiā, that is, the tablet of the soul
Chapter 2: On the imagination (khiyāl)
Chapter 3: On the imagination (mutakhayilah), the illusory
(wāhimah) and the memory (dhākirah)
Chapter 4: On the explanation that the soul is all of the
faculties
Chapter 5: On the rejection of what is said on the soul not
perceiving particulars
Chapter 6: On the number of the ancient schools of thought
about the soul mentioned by the Shaykh (Ibn Sīnā) in the
Shifā’ and their flaws, and we attribute to them their words
symbolically and interpret them according to the best inter-
pretation insofar as we have power and is possible, God willing
Part 6: On the explanation of the abstractness of the human rational
soul with pure intellectual abstractness and its quality of having
been brought about
Chapter 1: On that the rational soul is not body and not a
measure (extension) and not impressed in measure
Chapter 2: On witnesses by ear to this matter
Part 7: On the repudiation of the states of the rational soul with
regard to their relation to the natural world
Chapter 1: On the quality of dependence of the soul on the
body
Chapter 2: On the verification of the coming about of human

souls
Chapter 3: On the elucidation of this important problem and
an inquiry into what is mentioned, and the wrecking of what
they established
Chapter 4: On that the soul is not corrupted with the corrupt-
tion of the body
Chapter 5: On that the corruption of the soul is impossible
Chapter 6: On mention of the eastern promise
Chapter 7: On that the cause of the rational soul is an intel-
lectual affair separate from matter
Volume 9
Part 8: On the invalidity of transmigration of souls and spirits and
the refutation of what is similar to it
Chapter 1: On its invalidity, by the way of the throne
Chapter 2: On the refutation of transmigration by its parts, and
an indication of its schools and the wrecking of the position of
its theoreticians
Chapter 3: On the rejection of remaining doubts based on
narrations
Chapter [4]: On the completion of reflections in this part
pertaining to the relation between the soul and body and
indications of natural death, its appointed time, and the
difference between this and the appointed time of annihilation
Chapter 5: On that for every human person there is an
essential unity and it is the soul and it itself is the life of the
hearing and seeing rational perceiver, and it is also the eater
that grows and is born, indeed, the natural body that moves
and grows and senses
Chapter 6: On the weakness of what is said by those rejected
and the rejection of what has been said about a plurality of
faculties that do not go back to a single essence […]
Chapter 7: On that all of the corporeal faculties are shadows of
what is in the soul in psychic format
Chapter 8: On the dependence of the first on the soul
Part 9: On the account of some that the habits of the human soul
and their actions and their passions, and the stations and stopping
places of the human, and that some of the faculties are superior in
existence, and that fewer have a capacity for refinement
Chapter 1: On the human elite
Chapter 2: On the attributes of half of humanity, their general
morals, and their differences in nobility and rank
Chapter 3: On the stations of man and degrees according to the
strength of the soul
Chapter 4: On the qualities of the ranks of perceivers from the
lowest stations to the most elevated and a discussion of the
levels of immateriality
Chapter 5: On that the faculties that depend on the body some
are less capable of refinement and some have the greatest
capability for refinement, and how it happens that the action of
one of them is exchanged to be considered the action of the
person to the soul of the person and likewise to the body, and
how there can be personal corporeal survival with its exchange
in every instant
Part 10: On an inquiry into the spiritual return and an indication of
rational felicity and damnation, and felicity and damnation that are
not real, and what is said about them
Chapter 1: On the whatness of real felicity
Chapter 2: On the quality of the acquisition of this felicity and
the source of its being hidden from the soul and what remains
of this world
Chapter 3: On the damnation that is the opposite of real felicity
Chapter 4: On the reason why some souls are excluded from
the intellects, and are prohibited from felicity in the next world
Chapter 5: On the quality of the acquisition of the active intel-
lect in our souls
Chapter 6: On the repudiation of states of the so-called
spiritual kingdom by the mystics as the phoenix by way of
symbol and allusion
Chapter 7: On the explanation of felicity and damnation of the
afterlife sensibles without intellectual sensibles
Chapter 8: On the differences among different denominations

of people about the Resurrection (ma‘ād)
Chapter 9: On the arguments of those who deny the Resurrec-
tion
Chapter 10: On the differences of the levels of the soul in per-
ceiving the affairs of the Resurrection and the precedence of
the ranks in it
References
Agathias (1975) The Histories, tr. Joseph D. Frendo, Berlin: Walter

de Gruyter.
Chittick, W. C. (2007) Science of the Cosmos, Science of the Soul:
The Pertinence of Islamic Cosmology in the Modern World,
Oxford: Oneworld.
Davidson, H. A. (1992) Alfarabi, Avicenna, & Averroes, on Intellect.
New York, Oxford University Press.
Groff, P. S. (2007) Islamic Philosophy A-Z. Edinburgh: Edinburgh
University Press.
Hartman, E. (1977) Substance, Body, and Soul: Aristotelian
Investigations. Princeton: Princeton University Press.
Inati, Sh. C. (1998) “Soul in Islamic philosophy” Routledge Ency-
clopedia of Philosophy, Version 1.0, London: Routledge.
Ivry, A. (2008) “Arabic and Islamic Psychology and Philosophy of
Mind,” The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Summer 2008
Edition), E. N. Zalta (ed.), forthcoming URL =
http://plato.stanford.edu/ archives/sum2008/entries/arabic-
islamic-mind/.
Kāshānī, M. F. (2007) Kalimāt-e Maknūnah, Qom: Ishrāq.
Kāshānī, M. F. (1982) Tafsīr al-Ṣāfī, 5 Vols., Beirut: Mu’assissah al-
A‘lami.
Lewis, F. D. (2000) Rumi: Past and Present, East and West. Oxford:
Oneworld.
Massi Dakake, M. (2004) “The Soul as Barzakh: Substantial Motion

and Mullā Sadrā’s Theory of Human Becoming,” The Muslim
World, 94:1, 107-130.
McDermott, M. J. (1986) The Theology of Al-Shaikh Al-Mufīd, Bei-
rut: Librairie Orientale.
Mulla Sadra (1990) Al-Ḥikmat al-Muta‘āliyah fī al-Asfār al-‘Aqliyah
al-Arb‘ah, Beirut: Dar al-Ḥayā’ al-Tarāth al-‘Arabī.
Mulla Sadra (1981) The Wisdom of the Throne: An Introduction to
the Philosophy of Mulla Sadra, tr. James Winston Morris,
Princeton: Princeton University Press.
Mulla Sadra (1962) Kitāb al-‘Arshiyyah, Isfahan: Intishārāt
Mahdavī.
Niederbacher, B. & Runggaldier, E. (eds.) (2006) Die menschliche
Seele: Brauchen wir den Dualismus? Frankfurt: Ontos Verlag.
Peterson, M. L. & VanArragon, R. J. (eds.) (2004) Contemporary
Debates in the Philosophy of Religion, Oxford: Blackwell.
Rahman, F. (1975) The Philosophy of Mullā Ṣadrā, Albany: State
University of New York Press.
Rustom, M. (2007) “Psychology, eschatology, and imagination in
Mulla Sadra Shirazi's commentary on the hadith of awakening,”
Science and Islam; The Free Library (June, 22), http://www.
thefreelibrary.com/ Psychology, eschatology, and imagination in
Mulla Sadra Shirazi's...-a0164596589 (accessed April 21 2008)
Runggaldier, E. (2006) “The Aristotelian Alternative to Functional-
ism and Dualism,” in Niederbacher & Runggaldier (2006), 221-
248.
Shaykh Ṣadūq (1982) A Shi‘ite Creed, tr. Asaf A. A. Fyzee, Tehran:
WOFIS.
Sorabji, R. (2006) Self: Ancient and Modern Insights about
Individuality, Life, and Death. Chicago: University of Chicago
Press.
Walbridge, J. (1992) The Science of Mystic Lights: Qutb al-Dīn
Shīrāzī and the Illuminationist Tradition in Islamic Philosophy,
Cambridge: Harvard University Press.
Concepts of the Soul in the Bible
and in the Ancient Mediterranean World
Peter Marinkovic, Munich
1. Introduction
We are accustomed to speak of the human being as consisting of body

and soul, that is to say, that man has a mortal, material body which is
subject to growth and development, to injury and disease, to dete-
rioration and to death. This body has weight and extension, it is loca-
ted at one place at a time. In many respects it resembles the bodies of
the higher animals. We also believe that man has an immortal soul
which is not material, not subject to growth and development, not sub-
ject to physical injury or disease, will not deteriorate and cannot die. It
has no weight or extension, is not limited by time and space in the
same manner as the body, but during the lifetime of the individual on
earth is intimately connected with the body. In fact, it is the soul which
gives life to the body. When the soul is separated from the body, the
body dies, that is, it ceases to function as it should and begins to disin-
tegrate […].
I suppose that most of us have always regarded man as consisting of
body and soul, and would unhesitatingly say that this is what Scripture
teaches concerning man from cover to cover. Today, however, there are
those who call these self-evident facts into question. Proceeding from
the standpoint of the Evolutionist who regards man as a very highly
developed animal many so-called theologians today believe that reli-
gious thought too has developed from very simple beginnings to the
complex religious systems we have today. They contend that in earlier
ages man did not have this concept of a human soul which we today
have. If that is the case, then there must be a development of this
concept which can be traced in history, yes, which can be traced in Bi-
blical literature […].
The practical value of a study such as this lies in the consequences or
deductions which may be drawn from these various aspects of the
concept of the soul (Vogel 1963, 1).
This study will deliver historical traces of dualistic and non-dualistic

concepts of the soul in the Ancient Mediterranean World, with spe-
158 Peter Marinkovic
cial focuses on Ancient Egyptian, Biblical and Classical Greek sour-

ces. It will also deal with the question of the beginnings of dualistic
concepts of the soul in the Ancient Mediterranean World. The most
significant candidates are Ancient Egyptian texts and Greek authors
like Plato or, even earlier, Homer.
Body-soul-dualism seems to be widespread in religion and philo-
sophy. The Gnostic Christian Valentinus (ca. 100—ca. 160 CE) con-
ceived the human being even as a triple entity, consisting of body
(Greek: soma, hyle), soul (Greek: psyche) and spirit (Greek: pneu-
ma). According to a series of scholars this trichotomy corresponds to
the division they find in St. Paul’s Epistles (e.g. in 1 Thessalonians
5:23), and therefore also in concepts of Christian anthropology:
May the God of peace himself sanctify you entirely; and may your spirit
and soul and body be kept sound and blameless at the coming of our
Lord Jesus Christ (1 Thess 5:23).
But only a minority of theologians argue that human beings are

made up of three distinct components: body/flesh, soul, and spirit.
Traditional Christian anthropologies are rather concepts of a body-
soul-dichotomy, distinguishing between material (body/flesh) and
spiritual elements (soul/spirit). At death, the soul/spirit departs
from the body, being reunited with the body at the resurrection.
Modern theologians increasingly hold the view that the human
being is an indissoluble unity. This is known as holism or monism.
The body and soul are not considered separate components of a
person, but rather as two facets of a united whole. It is argued that
this more accurately represents Hebrew thought, whereas body-soul
dualism is more characteristic of Greek philosophy. Monism also
appears to be more consistent with modern neuroscience, which has
revealed that the so-called ‘higher functions’ of the mind are emer-
gent from the brain, rather than being based in an immaterial soul
as was previously thought.
Concepts of the Soul in the Bible and in the Ancient Mediterranean World 159
2. Concepts of the Soul in Ancient Egypt
The Greek historian Herodotus (ca. 484 BC—ca. 425 BC) wrote that
the Egyptians have been the first who stated the immortality of the
human soul, and its leaving of human corpses after death:
Moreover, the Egyptians also are the first who said this account, that a
human being’s soul is immortal and, when the body wastes away, it
slips into another living being that is being born on each and every
occasion; then, whenever it goes the round of all that’s on dry land,
that’s in the sea and that has wings, it slips back into a human being’s
body that is being born and it goes its round in three thousand years.
Of that account there are those of the Greeks who made use, some
earlier and some later, as if it were their own private, whose names I
know and refuse to write (Herodotus, Historiae 2, 123, 2).
An overview of Ancient Egyptian concepts of the soul, including

iconographic developments of the so called “soul bird” from its early
beginnings (see e.g. Hinterhuber 2001, 26-27), shows the comple-
xity of Ancient Egyptian anthropology. They distinguish different
types of the soul and the body.
The highly renowned German Egyptologist Jan Assmann (2001,
156ff) tried to outline a systematic structure behind the Ancient
Egyptian terms that already appear in the 2nd millennium BC. A per-
son lives in a bodily sphere as well as in a social sphere (in this
world and also in the underworld). Each sphere is constituted by
two aspects: the body and the soul. In the bodily sphere of a person
we can identify the ha as the body (occasionally a plural haw, mea-
ning approximately the sum of bodily parts) and as the soul the
sheut (shadow) and the ba (personality), whereas in the social
sphere sch (mummy dignity) stands for the body as well as ka (life
force) and ren (name) for the soul.
So the Ancient Egyptian concepts seem to provide a double dua-
listic structure: bodily and social sphere, body and soul. It is striking
that there is also a double dichotomy concerning the soul: on the
one hand sheut (shadow) and ba (personality), on the other hand ka
(life force) and ren (name). Ancient Egyptians probably conceived
not only of a body-soul-dualism, but furthermore also of a dual soul
in each of the two spheres. So they could distinguish at least four ty-
pes of soul.
In contrast to the body-soul-dualism in Ancient Egyptian
thought (see also Hasenfratz 2002), we can find non-dualistic con-
cepts of living beings in the Hebrew Bible and in its Greek version,
the Septuagint.
3. Concepts of the Soul in the Bible (Old Testament)
3.1. Hebrew Bible

The most important keyword for concepts of soul in the Old
Testament is nephesh, mostly translated with the Greek term psyche
in the Septuagint (see e.g. Bratsiotis 1966, Lys 1966, Wolff 2002,
Schroer et al. 2005, Wagner 2006 and 2009). References of ne-
phesh in the Hebrew Bible are originally related to the:
a. concept of breath (resembling the Hebrew term ruah and similar

to the Pre-Socratic use of psyche resembling pneuma), e.g.
Genesis 1:30 (God speaking):
“And to all the beasts of the earth and all the birds of the air and all the
creatures that move on the ground—everything that has the breath of
life in it—I give every green plant for food.” […]
Genesis 2:7:
[…] the Lord God formed the man from the dust of the ground and
breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a
living being.
b. The literal meaning of nephesh is “throat, gorge” e.g.

Hosea 9:4:
Such sacrifices shall be like mourners’ bread; all who eat of it shall be
defiled; for their bread shall be for their throats only; it shall not come
to the house of the Lord.
c. The literal meaning of nephesh is then also “breath” or “breathing

being”, in some cases “appetite, hunger” e.g.
Job 41:13 LXX = Job 41:21 (about Leviathan):
Its breath kindles coals, and a flame comes out of its mouth.
Proverbs 13:25:
The righteous have enough to satisfy their appetite, but the belly of the
wicked is empty.
Isaiah 5:14:
Therefore Sheol has enlarged its appetite and opened its mouth beyond
measure; the nobility of Jerusalem and her multitude go down, her
throng and all who exult in her.
Proverbs 10:3:
The Lord does not let the righteous go hungry, but he thwarts the
craving of the wicked.
d. But the literal meaning of nephesh is also “desire”, “cupidity” or

“lust” e.g.
Genesis 34:8:
But Hamor spoke with them, saying, “The heart of my son Shechem
longs for your daughter; please give her to him in marriage.”
e. The term nephesh designates the person as a whole e.g.

Genesis 12:13 (Abram speaks to Sara):
“Say you are my sister, so that it may go well with me because of you,
and that my life may be spared on your account.”
Genesis 19:19 (Lot speaking):
“Your servant has found favor in your eyes, and you have shown great
kindness to me in sparing my life.”
f. In some cases it means “life” or “living” as such e.g.

Proverbs 8:35 (wisdom as a person speaking):
“For whoever finds me finds life and receives favor from the Lord.”
g. Occasionally nephesh is also combined with dam, the Hebrew

term for “blood” e.g.
Leviticus 17:11:
For the life of the flesh is in the blood; and I have given it to you for
making atonement for your lives on the altar; for, as life, it is the blood
that makes atonement.
Deuteronomy 12:23
Only be sure that you do not eat the blood; for the blood is the life, and
you shall not eat the life with the meat.
h. It is possible that nephesh serves as a personal pronoun,
i. and it can describe the “vital self”, e.g.

Psalm 103:1-2.22 (first and last line, cf. Psalm 104:1.35):
Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy
name. Bless the Lord, O my soul, and do not forget all his benefits […].
Bless the Lord, all his works, in all places of his dominion. Bless the
Lord, O my soul.
Conclusions:
I) Nephesh does not denote an incorporeal part of a living being

surviving death of the body.
II) The Hebrew Bible provides us with concepts of the soul that do
not separate it from the body.
III) In later Jewish writings, especially in the Hellenistic period after

Alexander’s conquest (333/332 BC), the idea of the soul was
developed further to include dualistic concepts, e.g. Sapientia
Salomonis 9:15 (explicitly dealt with later, see below 5.).
3.2. The Septuagint (Greek Version of the Old Testament)

In most parts of the Septuagint (LXX, further information e.g. Dines
2004) we can also find non-dualistic anthropological concepts. The
semantic domain of “soul” in the Septuagint is based on the Greek
psyche. In 680 of 754 possible cases it serves as the translation of
the Hebrew term nephesh. The other Hebrew terms are `ish
“human being”; chajjah “life, living being”; leb, lebab “heart” and
ruach “breath, spirit” (see Lys 1966). It adopts the variety of
meanings that are tied to nephesh in the Hebrew Bible (Lys 1966,
228).
This observation corresponds to concepts of the soul that are
proposed by a series of pre-Socratic philosophers and authors (e.g.
Aeschylus, Antiphon, Aristides, Euripides, Hesiod, Pindar, Sopho-
cles, see e.g. Sullivan 1997 and 2000) as well as by the post-Platonic
philosopher Aristotle (384 BC—322 BC), especially in his De Anima.
The works of Aristotle had a great influence on the non-dualistic
concept of the soul that the Christian theologian Thomas Aquinas
(ca. 1225—1274 CE) developed in his Summa Theologica (cf. 7.).
For a better understanding of the Greek background of the term
psyche in the Septuagint, we will take a short glance at the develop-
ment of the meaning of psyche in Greek texts (see also Cumont
1949, Gladigow 2002 and Schwabl 2005). The Platonic concept of
the soul seems to have its roots in Homer’s use of the term psyche as
Mumm and Richter (2008) have shown. The shadow of the dead
was identified with the person itself. But soon after Homer, perhaps
with forerunners in late passages of the Odyssey (Dihle 1982, 16-20)
the range of psyche was transferred more and more from hades to
this world. Thus psyche was understood as the vital soul and the ego
soul of living beings (definitions and further categories: Hasenfratz
1986, 105-111) combined with sentience (Schwabl 2005, 46—58)
and enriched with emotional and moral attributes (Mumm et al.
2008, 40-41, with examples of Pindar, Pythiae IV 122f; Aeschylus,
Persae 441-444; Sophocles, Oedipus Tyrannus 62-64).
4. Concepts of the Soul in non-dualistic Pre-Socratic Texts—A

Comparison with Texts of the Septuagint
Some Pre-Socratic authors like e.g. Pythagoras and Empedocles

support dualistic concepts of the soul. But in a series of pre-Socratic
texts with non-dualistic concepts, psyche is connoted with the follo-
wing meanings:
a. breath of animals (e.g. Job 41:13 LXX = Job 41,21) and human
beings, e.g. in Euripides and Pindar (Bratsiotis 1966, 63 fn. 8 and 9),
cf. Job 41:13 LXX = Job 41:21 (about Leviathan):
Its breath kindles coals, and a flame comes out of its mouth.
b. base or bearer of life (e.g. Genesis 9:5; Leviticus 24:17 LXX), e.g.
in Antiphon and Aristides (Bratsiotis 1966, 64 fn. 8 and 65 fn. 1), cf.
Genesis 9:5:
For your own lifeblood I will surely require a reckoning: from every
animal I will require it and from human beings, each one for the blood
of another, I will require a reckoning for human life.
c. also explicitly for the life of animals, e.g. Lev 24:18 as well as in
Hesiod and Pindar (Bratsiotis 1966, 64 fn. 8 and 65 fn. 1), cf.
Leviticus 24:18:
Anyone who kills an animal shall make restitution for it, life for life.
d. base of feeling, perception, sensation (e.g. Jer 4:19; Job 6:7), e.g.
in Aeschylus, Persai 840ff, and Sophocles, Elektra 902-903
(Bratsiotis 1966, 66 fn. 11.14 and 67 fn. 4.8), cf. Jeremiah 4:19:
My heart is beating wildly; I cannot keep silent; for you, o my soul,

hear the sound of the trumpet, the alarm of war.
Job 6:7:
My appetite refuses to touch them;

they are like food that is loathsome to me.
e. Like Hebrew nephesh Greek psyche can be combined with the

term “blood” (Greek haima), e.g. Lev 17:14 as well as in Aristo-
phanes and Sophocles, Elektra 784ff (Bratsiotis 1966, 68 fn. 9 and
10), cf. Lev 17:14:
For the life of every creature—its blood is its life; therefore I have said
to the people of Israel: You shall not eat the blood of any creature, for
the life of every creature is its blood; whoever eats it shall be cut off.
Conclusions:
I) Most parts of the Septuagint provide us with concepts of the soul

that do not separate it from the body, similar to concepts of non-
dualistic pre-Socratic authors.
II) Only in Jewish writings of the Late Hellenistic period we find

dualistic concepts of the soul in pre-Christian Judaism, in the
Septuagint most prominent in Sapientia Salomonis.
5. A Dualistic Biblical Concept in the Late Hellenistic Period:

Sapientia Salomonis
The concept of the soul is very prominent in the apocryphal/

deuterocanonical book Sapientia Salomonis (“Wisdom of Solo-
mon”). The book was probably written in Egypt, in Alexandria, in

the 1st Century BC.
For many Biblical scholars SapSal 9:15 states clearly a body-soul-
dualism:
9:14 For the reasoning of mortals is worthless, and our designs are
likely to fail; 15 for a perishable body weighs down the soul and this
earthy tent burdens the thoughtful mind.
But this dualistic concept can only be understood in the horizon of

questions about God’s restorative justice (like the parallel develop-
ment of concepts of immortality and resurrection, cf. Nickelsburg
2006).
As SapSal 3:1-9 points it out:
1 But the souls of the righteous are in the hand of God, and no torment
will ever touch them. 2 In the eyes of the foolish they seemed to have
died, and their departure was thought to be a disaster, 3 and their
going from us to be their destruction; but they are at peace. 4 For
though in the sight of others they were punished, their hope is full of
immortality. 5 Having been disciplined a little, they will receive great
good, because God tested them and found them worthy of himself […].
The Destiny of the Ungodly is described in SapSal 3:10-13:
10 But the ungodly will be punished as their reasoning deserves, those

who disregarded the righteous and rebelled against the Lord; 11 for
those who despise wisdom and instruction are miserable. Their hope is
vain, their labors are unprofitable, and their works are useless. 12
Their wives are foolish, and their children evil; 13 their offspring are
accursed. For blessed is the barren woman who is undefiled, who has
not entered into a sinful union; she will have fruit when God examines
souls.
These dualistic concepts also influenced other Jewish authors of the

late Hellenistic and early Roman period, especially those in Alexan-
dria/Egypt, like Philo.
6. The Dualistic Concept of Philo of Alexandria
In the scriptures of Philo of Alexandria (20 BC—50 CE), we can also

find traces of a body-soul dualism (see gig. 14), e.g. the doctrine of
the body as the source of all evil and the concept of the soul as a
divine emanation (logos), similar to Plato’s nous (cf. Runia 1986 and
Heckel 1993, esp. 74-76). Already Hieronymus asked, whether “Pla-
to philonizes or Philo platinizes” (Hieronymus, vir.ill 11,7). Obvious-
ly, Hieronymus’ question almost sounds like mockery.
There are, however, structural similarities between Philo’s con-
cept of the soul and Plato’s view (e.g. Politeia 9, 588B-589A or
Phaidros 246A-250C, cf. Sellin 1986, 141-143). In a series of texts
Philo says that the body is keeping the soul imprisoned like a shell, a
jail, a grave or a coffin (see Sellin 1986, 131, with a lot of supporting
textual examples, cf. also concepts of Pythagoras and Empedocles,
Ratzinger 2007, 118).
For the Platonic school, the soul was an immaterial and incorpo-
real substance. Plato considered the soul as the essence of a person.
He considered this essence as an incorporeal, eternal occupant of
our being. As bodies die, the soul is continually reborn in subse-
quent bodies. The Platonic soul comprises three parts: logos (mind,
nous, or reason), thymos (emotion, or spiritedness), and eros
(appetite, or desire). Each of these has a function in a balanced and
peaceful soul. Joseph Ratzinger (2007, 118-119) stresses that Plato’s
goal was not a dualistic concept of the soul, but rather to integrate
dualistic elements in a “unity in diversity”. According to Ratzinger’s
view, a Greek-Platonic dualism of body and soul does also not exist
in the texts of Plotinus, the great renovator of Platonic philosophy in
the 3rd Century CE, but only in modern theological treatises (2007,
120).
Philo used allegory in order to harmonize Greek philosophy
(especially ideas about physis “nature”) and Judaism (especially its
torah, nomos “law”). He coined the term nomos physeos “natural
law” (Koester 2007). Yet, his work was not widely accepted among
Greeks and Jews in antiquity. Nevertheless, some early Christian
theologians, like Origen of Alexandria (185—ca. 254 CE), picked up
Philo’s ideas of a dichotomy of body and soul. As a philosopher and

theologian, Origen composed the seminal work of Christian
Neoplatonism, his treatise On First Principles, which established
doctrines about the Holy Trinity (based upon standard Middle
Platonic triadic emanation schemas); the pre-existence and fall of
souls; multiple ages and transmigration of souls; and the eventual
restoration of all souls to a state of dynamic perfection in proximity
to god. He also insisted on the absolute freedom of each and every
soul.
7. Developments from Aristotle to Thomas Aquinas
Detailed studies about this topic have been delivered by Cumont

1949, Gladigow 2002 and Schwabl 2005. Aristotle stated that the
soul was a form inseparable from the body. He defined the soul as
the core essence of a being, but argued against its having a separate
existence. For instance, if a knife had a soul, the act of cutting would
be that soul, because ‘cutting’ is the essence of what it is to be a
knife. Unlike Plato and some religious traditions, Aristotle did not
consider the soul as some kind of separate, ghostly occupant of the
body (just as we cannot separate the activity of cutting from the
knife). As the soul, in Aristotle’s view, is an actuality of a living body,
it cannot be immortal (when a knife is destroyed, the cutting stops).
More precisely, the soul is the “first actuality” of a naturally
organized body. This is a state, or a potential for actual, or ‘second’,
activity. “The axe has an edge for cutting” was, for Aristotle,
analogous to “humans have bodies for rational activity,” and the
potential for rational activity thus constituted the essence of a
human soul. Aristotle used his concept of the soul in many of his
works; especially in De Anima (On the Soul).
Most parts of the New Testament follow the terminology of the
Septuagint, and use the word psyche with the non-dualistic
semantic domain of the Hebrew Bible (see 3.) and the Septuagint,
similar to concepts of non-dualistic pre-Socratic authors (see 4.).
Krister Stendahl (1963) has shown that the anthropology of the
epistles of the Jew Paul was neither introspective, nor dualistic (cf.
Heckel’s comparison of Pauline and Platonic concepts 1993), unlike
what St. Augustine and Martin Luther have indicated, and, due to
their influence, unlike the sort of view that came to dominate the
history of the reception of St. Paul’s theology.
Towards the end of the 2nd century CE, some Christian theologi-
ans understood psyche more in a Greek than a Hebrew way, contra-
sting it with the body. In the 3rd century CE, influenced by Origen of
Alexandria (185—ca. 254 CE), the doctrine of the inherent immor-
tality of the soul and its divine nature was established (see 6.).
St. Augustine (354—430 CE, Carthago, North Africa) spoke of
the soul as a “rider” on the body, making clear the split between the
material and the immaterial, with the soul representing the “true”
person.
As contemporary scholarship points out, Augustine accepts Plato’s

dichotomy between body (σώμα) and soul (ψυχή) [fn 7: See Plato’s
dialogues Phaedo, and Republic, book IV] and reworks it in a way
which takes him to a proto-Cartesian notion of the ‘inner’ and the
‘outer’ (Sidiropoulou 2008, 5).
Taylor introduces the term “proto-Cartesian” in his account of

Augustine (Taylor 1989) and shows that Augustine’s contribution
lies primarily in the emergence of “radical reflexivity” or the “first
person point of view” (Taylor 1989, especially 127-142; cf. Hasen-
fratz’ use of the term ego soul 1986, 105-111). Although body and
soul were separate, it seems impossible for Augustine to conceive of
a soul without its body.
In the Middle Ages Thomas Aquinas returned to Aristotle’s con-
cept of the soul as a motivating principle of the body, independent
but requiring the substance of the body to make an individual.
The consequences of dualistic and non-dualistic concepts of the
soul for medical psychosomatics are discussed by E. Frick 2009 and
for a philosophy of mind, e.g. by J. Quitterer 2003, E. Runggaldier
2003, E. Stump 2006, G. Brüntrup 2008 and in Soul, body, and
survival. Essays on the metaphysics of human persons edited by K.
J. Corcoran 2001. W. Achtner et al. 2005 focus on the consequences
in the field of neuroscience and ‘neuro-theology’, whereas B. and T.

Görnitz 2008 reflect on connections between concepts of the soul
and consciousness in quantum physics and religion with the new
developed concept of “protyposis”.
References
Achtner, W., Düringer, H. Meisinger, H. & Schmidt, W.-R. (eds.)

(2005) Gott—Geist—Gehirn. Religiöse Erfahrungen im Lichte der
neuesten Hirnforschung, Arnoldshainer Texte Bd. 133, Frankfurt
a.M.: Haag & Herchen.
Aristotle (1957) On the Soul (De Anima) et al. With an English
translation by W.S. Hett. Loeb Classical Library 288 (Aristotle
VIII), Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, revised edition.
Assmann, J. (2001) Tod und Jenseits im Alten Ägypten, München:
Beck Verlag.
Assmann, J. & Trauzettel, R. (eds.) (2002) Tod, Jenseits und
Identität. Perspektiven einer kulturwissenschaftlichen
Thanatologie, Freiburg & München: Alber.
Bratsiotis, N.P. (1966) “Nephesh-psychè. Ein Beitrag zur Erfor-
schung der Sprache und der Theologie der Septuaginta”, in G.W.
Andersen et al. (eds.), Congress volume 5, Genève 1965.
Supplements to Vetus Testamentum 15, Leiden: E.J. Brill, 58-89.
Brüntrup, G. (2008) Das Leib-Seele-Problem. Eine Einführung,
Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 3rd revised and expanded edition.
Corcoran, K.J. (ed.) (2001) Soul, body, and survival. Essays on the
metaphysics of human persons, Ithaca: Cornell University Press.
Cumont, F. (1949) Lux perpetua, Paris: Geuthner.
Dines, J.M. (2004) The Septuagint, London: T&T Clark.
Frick, E. (2009) Psychosomatische Anthropologie. Ein Lehr- und
Arbeitsbuch für Unterricht und Studium. Unter Mitarbeit von H.
Gründel, Stuttgart: Kohlhammer.
Gladigow, B. “Bilanzierungen des Lebens über den Tod hinaus”, in
Assmann et al. (2002), 90-109.
Görnitz, B. & T. Die Evolution des Geistigen.

(2008)
Quantenphysik—Bewusstsein—Religion, Göttingen: Vandenhoeck
& Ruprecht.
Hasenfratz, H.-P. (1986) Die Seele. Einführung in ein religiöses
Grundphänomen, Zürich: Theologischer Verlag.
Hasenfratz, H.-P. (2002) “Religionswissenschaftliches zur Seelen-
konzeption. Am Beispiel Altägyptens”, in J. Figl & H.-D. Klein
(eds.), Der Begriff der Seele in der Religionswissenschaft, Würz-
burg: Königshausen & Neumann, 121-130.
Heckel, T.K. (1993) “Der Innere Mensch. Die paulinische
Verarbeitung eines platonischen Motivs”, WUNT 2. Reihe Bd. 53,
Tübingen: Mohr.
Hinterhuber, H. (2001) Die Seele. Natur- und Kulturgeschichte von
Psyche, Geist und Bewusstsein, Wien & New York: Springer
Verlag.
Janowski, B. (2006) Konfliktgespräche mit Gott. Eine
Anthropologie der Psalmen, 2nd revised and expanded edition,
Neukirchen: Neukirchener Verlag.
Koester, H. (2007) “Natural Law (nomos physeos) in Greek
Thought”, in H. Koester, Paul and His World. Interpreting the
New Testament in its Context, Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 126-
142.
Lints, R. et al. (eds.) (2006) Personal Identity in Theological
Perspective, Grand Rapids: Eerdmans.
Lys, D. (1966) “The Israelite Soul According to the LXX”, Vetus
Testamentum 16, 181-228.
Mumm, P.-A., and Richter, S. (2008) “Die Etymologie von
griechisch ψυχή”, International Journal of Diachronic Linguistics
and Linguistic Reconstruction 5, 33-108.
Nickelsburg, G.W.E. (2006) Resurrection, Immortality, and Eternal
Life in Intertestamental Judaism and Early Christianity, Harvard
Theological Studies 56, expanded edition, Cambridge, MA:
Harvard University Press.
NIV (1984) The Holy Bible: New International Version, Grand
Rapids: Zondervan.
NRSV (1989) The Holy Bible: New Revised Standard Version.

Nashville: Thomas Nelson.
Quitterer, J. (2003) “Unser Selbst im Spannungsfeld von Alltagsin-
tuition und Wissenschaft“, in Rager et al., 61-142.
Rager, G. Quitterer, J. & Runggaldier, E. (eds.) (2003) Unser Selbst.
Identität im Wandel neuronaler Prozesse, Paderborn: Verlag Fer-
dinand Schöningh, 2nd corrected edition.
Ratzinger, J./Benedikt XVI. (2007) Eschatologie. Tod und ewiges
Leben, Regensburg: Verlag Friedrich Pustet, Neuausgabe der 6.
Aufl. 1990.
Runggaldier, E. (2003) “Deutungen menschlicher Grunderfah-
rungen im Hinblick auf unser Selbst”, in Rager et al., 143-221.
Runia, D.T. (1986) “Philo of Alexandria and the Timaios of Plato”,
PhAnt 44, Leiden: Brill, 507-519.
Schwabl, H. (2005) “Frühgriechische Seelenvorstellungen”, in H.-D.
Klein (ed.), Der Begriff der Seele in der Philosophiegeschichte,
Würzburg: Königshausen & Neumann, 29-64.
Schroer, S. & Staubli, T. (2005) Die Körpersymbolik der Bibel,
Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 2nd revised
edition.
Sellin, G. (1986) Der Streit um die Auferstehung der Toten, FRLANT
138, Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht.
Sidiropoulou, C. (2008) “A Soul in Space and Time: What Kind of
Unique Self?” Paper read at the conference Subject, Self, and
Soul. Transdisciplinary Approaches to Personhood, July 13-17
2008, Madrid, Spain. On-line at URL =
http://www.metanexus.net/conference2008/articles/Default.asp
x?id=10521
Stendahl, K. (1963) “The Apostle Paul and the Introspective Con-
science of the West”, Harvard Theological Review 56, 199-214.
Stump, E. (2006) “Resurrection, Reassembly, and Reconstitution”,
in B. Niederbacher & E. Runggaldier (eds.), Die menschliche See-
le. Brauchen wir den Dualismus? Frankfurt a.M.: ontos, 153-174.
Sullivan, S.D. (1997) Aeschylus’ Use of Psychological Terminology,
Montreal & Kingston, London, Buffalo: McGill-Queen’s Univer-
sity Press.
Sullivan, S.D. (2000) Euripides’ Use of Psychological Terminology,

Montreal & Kingston, London, Ithaca: McGill-Queen’s University
Press.
Taylor, C. (1989) Sources of the Self. The Making of Modern
Identity, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Vogel, H.J. (1963) “The Old Testament Concept of the Soul”, Lec-
tures read at the Pastors’ Institute held at Dr. Martin Luther
College, New Ulm, Minnesota, July 8—12 1963
(see
www.wlsessays.net/authors/V/VogelOTSoul/VogelOTSoul.pdf).
Wagner, A. (2006) Art. “Mensch” (Altes Testament), in M. Bauks &
K. Koenen (eds., Alttestamentlicher Teil) Das wissenschaftliche
Bibellexikon im Internet (www.wibilex.de), Stuttgart: Deutsche
Bibelgesellschaft.
Wagner, A. (ed.) (2009) Anthropologische Aufbrüche. Alttesta-
mentliche und interdisziplinäre Zugänge zur historischen Anthro-
pologie, Forschungen zur Religion und Literatur des Alten und
Neuen Testaments (FRLANT) 232, Göttingen: Vandenhoeck &
Ruprecht.
Wolff, H.W. (2002) Anthropologie des Alten Testaments. Gütersloh:
Gütersloher Verlagshaus, 7th edition.
Two Problems in the Theory of
Substantial Motion
Muhammad Taqi Miṣbāḥ Yazdī, Qom
1. Welcoming Remarks
Praise be to Allah, the Lord of the worlds. Peace and blessings to our
master Muhammad and to his pure progeny. I thank God that He
has granted us the success of being present with our cultured friends
who are lovers of the truth. I would like very much if my youth
would return so that I could also return the visit by coming with our
friends to Austria, and to take an active part in their discussions.
Unfortunately, our time has passed, and we have to make due with
observing your activities.
For my part, I would like to welcome our dear guests. I hope that
the last few days have not passed very badly for them. Our facilities
for hosting are very limited and because of that I would like to apo-
logize. I would also like to thank our friends for the reception that
they provided for their Iranian guests when they were previously in
Austria. I hope that this coming and going will be a step toward the
advancement of philosophy and theology, and that it will prepare
further grounds for the exchange of ideas and culture. I am ready to
be informed of the report of the work of our friends, or to answer
any questions they may have, if I am able.
2. Confusions about Substantial Motion
As you know, the topic of this conference is very subtle, and is one to
which both Eastern and Western philosophers for a long time have
given importance, and they have made great efforts in order to solve
its problems and to eliminate the ambiguities related to it. It seems,
however, that there is still a long way to go until conclusive results
176 Muhammad Taqi Miṣbāḥ Yazdī
are achieved. Substantial motion, as you know, is one of the original

theses of the philosophy of Mulla Sadra. Although this theory was
first presented several centuries ago, the truth of the matter has still
not been offered, and there remain dimensions of the discussion
that deserve further inquiry. As you know, many scholars have com-
pared the view of Mulla Sadra with that of Heraclitus; and they
wanted to say that this was a revival of Heraclitus that took place in
Islamic philosophy during the time of Mulla Sadra. However, it
seems that it is no easy matter to prove that these two views are the
same. In any case, one may pursue philosophical discussions such as
these, each of which has its own philosophical value, such as discus-
sions of the nature of substantial motion itself, the precursors to it
among other philosophers, as well as other similar topics, such as
constant creation, and how these theories compare with the view of
others, including those of Heraclitus. As philosophers there is room
for you to continue your investigations, and as this topic is deve-
loped and is made available to others, it may come to be included
among the topics of modern philosophy.
One of the immediate fruits of this theory in general philosophy
or metaphysics in the broad sense and which may be solved through
this theory is the inquiry into the nature of time. According to the
theory of substantial motion, time is placed in the context of mate-
rial existence, and is not a vessel for the universe. In any case, this
theory, the theory of substantial motion, is very effective in giving
one more certainty about the nature of time. One of the problems
that Mulla Sadra himself claimed can be solved through this theory
is the relation between body and soul. I am sure that in this regard
our friends will have some good discussions about this during the
next few days.
3. The Problem of the Direction of Substantial Motion
What remains ambiguous in the theory of substantial motion, and

which I have not been able to derive myself from the words of Mulla
Sadra, although I have grasped the surface meaning, is whether
substantial motion is always motion toward perfection, or whether

there is not also constant motion, or declining motion, as types of
substantial motion. For example, the time that passes within mate-
rial substance, without a doubt, is motion that is constant, because
time itself is not perfecting, and with respect to perfection, past,
present and future do not make any difference. The source of the
abstraction of time, that is, the dimension of material existence that
temporal motion pictures, is a constant process. Hence, there must
be some sort of substantial motion—although this is my own
interpretation and is not expressly stated by Mulla Sadra—that is a
constant substantial motion and is the basis for the abstraction of
time. Of course, the fact that I have not found anything of this sort
in the works of Mulla Sadra is not definitive, and perhaps some of
our friends might do more research into the texts and make some
relevant findings. Perhaps it can be said that it is certain that in
Mulla Sadra’s theory, perfecting motion exists as a kind of sub-
stantial motion, and that the solution that he presents for the
origination of the soul and for the relation between body and soul is
in fact an instance of this perfecting substantial motion. Thus, we
have two sorts of substantial motion, in my view, at least: constant
and perfecting or ascending.
Can we also consider declining motion as a third type of
substantial motion? Perhaps texts of Mulla Sadra can be found that
would show that according to him declining substantial motion is
meaningless. I do not think that Mulla Sadra explicitly denies decli-
ning substantial motion, and in my opinion, some of his statements
may be interpreted as affirming it. In any case, in my opinion, decli-
ning substantial motion is not unreasonable. Of course, both ascen-
ding and declining substantial motion, if it exists, are always accom-
panied by a constant motion which is the basis of the abstraction of
time, that is, for any material existent, we can abstract time from it.
This is an indication of a constant substantial motion in time.
Perfecting substantial motion is a sign that there is a motion that
supervenes on constant substantial motion. In order to complete
this view, it should be noted that the existence of two motions or the
supervenience of one on another does not mean that there exist two
distinct and contrary things. There is one moving entity from which
the mind abstracts a constant motion from one aspect and a
perfecting motion from another aspect. For example, if we imagine a
body that travels along the diagonal of a right triangle with base AB
and diagonal AC, where the right angle is ABC, then the movement
of the body toward the line BC may be considered constant motion,
while if the body moves toward point C on BC, although it traverses
a distance longer than either side AB or BC of the right triangle, it
still covers the distance from A to B.
In other words, as the body continues along the diagonal, eventually

it will cross the line BC. In conclusion, there is constant motion that
accompanies any ascending motion. This does not mean that two
motions take place; rather there is a single motion that is analyzed
as two motions, as in vector analysis. The question with regard to
declining motion is whether there could be motion to negative C that
would include, under analysis, motion to B, so that the motion
would be analyzed into constant motion and also descending
motion.
4. Emergence or Generation?
There is also a question about the solution that Mulla Sadra propo-
sed about how the soul appears as a result of the substantial motion
of the body. On the basis of my own study, I have not found a defini-
te answer to this question. The question depends on an assumption,
which is that when the soul exists, it is a reality, a substance, that is
not of the same sort as matter. It does not have the most obvious
features of matter, which is extension in three dimensions. When
the spirit enlivens the body, there are two substances: the material
substance which is the body, and the spiritual substance which is the
soul. If the assumption is correct that we now have two distinct sub-
stances, then it will be asked when the distinction between these two
substances appeared. The answer that may be obtained from what
Mulla Sadra says is that we have a material substance that under-
goes perfecting substantial motion in the course of its substantial
motion, and in the course of its perfection it changes into spirit.
Suppose that this matter has a long history and that at some mo-
ment in this history it begins a perfecting motion. Here the question
that arises for us is when the ascending motion breaks off from the
constant motion. Suppose that we discuss this in terms of modern
science, then we may ask whether it is when the sperm and ovum
become composite, or even earlier, when the sperm had not yet co-
me into existence and was just some organic matter, or even some
inorganic matter. At any rate, let us suppose there is some such
point, even if it is difficult for us to determine precisely. At this point
is there any trace of spirit or not? If there is, is it identical to the
body or is it coupled with the matter or mixed with it?
The answer that is sometimes expressed by Mulla Sadra is that,
first, constant substantial motion occurs in the material body. Sup-
pose that it is some inorganic matter that existed throughout time,
and that there was a constant motion in this material substance, so
that at some point it turns into organic matter, and in the same way
it continues until it is transformed into a human spirit. Our question
is whether there is a definite point at which it is transformed into a
human spirit. If we want to picture this, is it the case that the sub-
stance continues in a straight line and then at some point shoots off
at an ascending angle? The answer to this question is not clear from
the writings of Mulla Sadra. There are two possibilities: first, we
could say that the ascending motion starts at some specific point,
that is, one part of the motion is constant, and then at a certain
point it begins to ascend; or, second, that the ascending motion was
there from the start, that is, that there is no specific point, but from
the very first there is a curved line, although until now the curvature
was not perceptible and we did not notice it.
If it is said that this perfecting motion does not start at any
definite moment, but has a long history for which no starting point
can be found, then the question will be raised as to how to justify the
temporal coming to be of the soul on the basis of this theory, for in
this case it would appear as though the ascending motion were
present from the start. If, on the other hand, it is said that the ascen-
ding motion began at a certain moment, the implication will be that
this motion can be analyzed into two motions: a constant motion
that continues within the body, and an ascending motion that begins
at a certain point. In that case, we cannot say that the body was
transformed into the soul, but that the soul came to be attached to
the body at the point the ascending motion begins.
These are two issues that are unclear for me regarding the theory of
Mulla Sadra.
5. Philosophical Method
Some may ask about how this compares with what is written in the
Qur’ān, and whether what is found there is consistent with the idea
of the gradual emergence of soul from matter. This is also a matter
that is not clear from the writings of Mulla Sadra. However, as a
matter of methodology, I think it is better not to bring religious texts
into philosophical discussions; but we should restrict ourselves to
philosophical discussion. If we are able to reach a clear conclusion,
then we may compare this with what is found in the religious texts.
If we are not able to reach a clear conclusion, mixing the discussion
with religious matters will only increase our difficulties and solve
nothing.
One of our guests has suggested that a way to understand the

unity of body and soul is suggested by Christian theology, according
to which Christ, peace be with him, is both human and divine. This
is explained by analogy with an iron that is put into fire and beco-
mes glowing hot. The redness of the iron and its heat are not sepa-
rate, and they only have existence when they are together. Perhaps
such an example also may help with understanding the reality of
time and its relations to other things in a single existent. To this
suggestion we should reply that the use of analogies can be useful to
explain some religious topics; and the use of analogies can also be
useful for pedagogical purposes, so that the minds of students may
more closely approach the truth. However, in my own opinion, in
discussions of philosophy in which depth and precision take prio-
rity, the use of analogies is not only ineffectual, but can also be mis-
leading. In philosophy, we have to define our concepts with perfect
precision, so that no confusion will occur with other concepts. If we
do not take care in this regard, no problems of philosophy will ever
be solved. It is possible that through the use of analogies the mind of
the student may be brought out of the state of thinking that some
matter is highly unlikely, and may be prepared for the acceptance of
some belief. This, however, does not solve any philosophical prob-
lems. When we say, for example, that something has reality or does
not have reality, if we want to use ordinary language in this regard,
or make use of analogies, we can easily find an answer. However,
when we seek to raise a precise question of philosophy, we have to
pay attention to terms in which it is formulated, and ask what is
meant by “reality”. Until we make this precise, the discussion will
not be philosophical, and no philosophical answer to the problem
will be given. Because of this, in philosophy we should avoid making
use of literature, poetry, religious scriptures, analogies, and myths
so that the philosophical discussion does not lose its own identity
and become confused with these other areas.
When we say that something has two dimensions, or that it has
one divine aspect and one human aspect, we have to be precise, even
about the word “one”. We should ask what it means to say that one
thing possesses two elements. In philosophy, how many meanings
does “One” have? By virtue of what is it one? Even if we say that the
body and soul of a person are one existent in our existence, which
has both a soul and a body, by virtue of what do we say one? Is this,
in truth, one? Or are there really two? Do we only say “one” due to
equivocation? In philosophy, we have to be exact even about these
matters, and define every word we use, so that we can say what we
mean.
6. The Reality of Time
While we have explained that in the theory of Mulla Sadra, time is

not a vessel in which objects are located, and while we have also
rejected the view of Heraclitus as an interpretation of Mulla Sadra’s
theory, the question remains as to whether we should take time to
be a reality in itself, or merely an abstraction that the mind performs
with regard to motion. Here we need to pay close attention to what
is meant by the word “reality,” when we ask whether something “has
reality” or “has its own reality” according to some versions of
realism. What is meant by having reality? As was mentioned earlier,
a single motion may be analyzed into two motions, one constant and
one ascending. The question may be raised as to which of these has
reality. In one sense we may say that both are real. In that case,
however, the meaning of being real is not that there is any sepa-
ration between them, so that each constitutes a distinct reality; ra-
ther there is a single existent that has various dimensions and
aspects. From one aspect we abstract one concept, and from another
aspect we abstract another. For example, when we touch a surface,
in the reality of a surface there is no separation between length and
breadth. However, we mentally distinguish the dimensions. Both the
length and the breadth have reality, but this having reality does not
mean that there are two realities, one of which is a and, on the other
hand, there is another reality called b. There is only one reality, yet
both length and breadth are real. If we take this into consideration,
then when we confront volume, there will be three realities, length,
breadth and depth. When we consider time, we arrive at four rea-
lities. Time may be considered by way of comparison to be another

dimension of the entity. Just as length is a dimension of an entity,
breadth is another, and height is a third dimension of an entity, so,
too, time is an extension that is also abstracted from the entity, but
is not separate from it, just as length and breadth are not separate
entities.
In my comments above, I have stressed the word “reality”
(wāqi‘iyah) because it may be interpreted in two ways. You have ob-
served that in our own Islamic philosophy we sometimes say that
something has reality or even that it has existence. We say that every
true statement about the external world is such that the predication
of something in the external world has true existence (wujūd-e
ḥaqīqī) or reality. Therefore, we say that all the abstract concepts,
which are secondary intelligibles, although they are abstract, they
have reality. The other interpretation is that when we say that
something has reality, we mean that it has independent reality, re-
gardless of the abstraction of the intellect. When someone asks
whether we hold, for example, that time is real, we should respond
by asking with regard to which meaning of “reality” the question is
posed. In accordance with the meaning by which every true predi-
cation of something in the external world has reality, time is real;
but if the meaning is that something is predicated as a primary
intelligible without any abstraction of the mind, in this sense we
must say, “No,” that time is not real. An example is the dimensions.
Do length, breadth and depth have reality or not? No one can say
that length has no reality in the external world; however, there is no
such thing as length separate from the corporeal objects in the
external world.
7. Comparative Philosophy
Precision is especially important when we want to do comparative

philosophy, or explain the concepts of one tradition to those who
have been trained in another. For example, the concept of substan-
tial motion is not found in Aristotle’s philosophy or in the Western
Aristotelian tradition. In Aristotle’s philosophy, motion in substance

is meaningless, for when a substance undergoes change, it must be
destroyed and another substance emerges. Because of this, Aristote-
lians have had some difficulties explaining the nature of gradual
change in a substance, such as the change from an embryo to a hu-
man being. In order to understand how this sort of problem is ad-
dressed according to Mulla Sadra’s theory of substantial motion, we
need to be especially careful of how we define the relevant terms.
Whenever anyone is determined to stick with just one philoso-
phical school of thought to the end, one will face difficulties. If we
want to solve our problems in such a way that they are rationally
justifiable for us and do not involve any contradiction, we cannot
remain loyalists to any particular philosophical tradition. If there
were this sort of mistaken loyalty, there would never have been any
argument between Plato and Aristotle, and Aristotle would have
remained true to the theory of his teacher. In philosophy, we have
no choice but to select and evaluate all of the theories that are to be
found in various schools of thought. Whichever of them has a sound
proof should be accepted. Where no proof is found, we must remain
silent, or reject it, if we find a proof against it.
Mulla Sadra believes that what the previous philosophers said
about motion in substance is not correct, even what the Islamic
philosophers said, such as Ibn Sina, who did not accept substantial
motion. Thus, we cannot remain loyal to our old traditions and by
doing so solve these problems. If we wanted to remain loyal to Ari-
stotelian philosophy, I must admit that many of our rational the-
ories would not be justifiable, let alone our religious positions.
Every philosophical school has its own roots or central principles
that show themselves in every theory and problem treated by that
school. In particular, in the philosophy of Mulla Sadra, the funda-
mentality of existence and the graduation of existence are principles
that manifest themselves in almost all the problems of philosophy.
When we want to understand Mulla Sadra, we must certainly pay
attention to these two central principles. In addition to the funda-
mentality of existence and the graduation of existence, however,
Mulla Sadra has two other principles, which should be considered
even more important for his philosophy than the discovery of the
atom was for physics: the doctrine of substantial motion and that of
relational existence. With these principles many problems of philo-
sophy and theology can be solved that are unsolvable in other
schools of philosophy.
For instance, with respect to the soul, we believe in perfecting
substantial motion. It is the soul itself that becomes perfected in its
existence. So, according to our own religious teachings we need to
investigate until we find the factors that lead to this perfection. We
all agree that the factor leading to the perfection of the soul is ser-
ving God. However, we need to pay attention to the fact that the
substance of the soul is perfected by this factor, not merely that its
accidents change. This is a very important topic. If there are some
ambiguities about this in certain places, there is no doubt about the
perfecting substantial motion of the soul, but only about whether
the doctrine of substantial motion can be used to solve the problem
of the relation between body and soul. There is no doubt that sub-
stantial motion is a key to the solution of many of the great prob-
lems of philosophy, and it should not be feared that this is opposed
to the Aristotelian tradition, the Platonic tradition, or any of the
other schools of philosophy. It is a truth, and we should be thankful
to Him who makes the truth manifest to us.
Gnostic Elements in Mīr Findiriskī’s
Theory of Knowledge and the Body-Soul
Relation
Mahmoud Namazi Esfahani, Qom
1. Introduction
The existence and nature of man’s soul are matters of interest to

most people, but especially to philosophers and mystics. Thinkers of
all backgrounds have sought answers to such questions as: What is
the reality and the origin of human life and thought? Has a human
being only a body with a physical existence or does he have a soul or
a spirit, too? What is the soul if man has one? Is it essential or ac-
cidental? Does the human soul have any relation to the body? Who
are the creator and the cause of human soul? Is it the Active Intellect
(as the Peripatetic philosophers, or Mashshā’īn believe) or is it the
universal soul (as the Illuminationists, or Ishrāqīyūn would have it)?
However, since knowledge of the soul is sometimes considered
the basis for knowledge of the Creator and His creatures, and since
scholars consider it a key to understanding the truth and perfection
of life, it is a subject that has long exercised the greatest minds.
Eastern scholars, including Islamic thinkers, believed in the immor-
tality and incorporeality of the soul. They endlessly discussed the
means toward its purification and perfection. Certain Greek philo-
sophers also believed in the existence of the soul or spirit and
discussed its essence, signs and effects, leading to the emergence of
different opinions and schools. Socrates, for instance, believed in
the existence of a soul and insisted that knowledge of others amoun-
ted to knowledge of their souls. Plato believed in the incorporeality
and immortality of the soul and strongly believed in the substantive
and perfect motion of the soul. Aristotle believed that the soul is
originated and that it is the perfection or form of the natural
188 Mahmoud Namazi Esfahani
substance. Plotinus, whose ideas had a tremendous influence on the

Muslim world and Muslim philosophers, also considered the prob-
lem of the soul; in his Enneads, he expressed his belief in the
descent of the soul from the incorporeal world and its desire to
return to its home once again.
In Islam the question of the human soul has been addressed in
various philosophical, mystical, ethical and theological contexts.
Other very basic and fundamental problems in Islam (God’s oneness
and the doctrine of resurrection) also have a close relation to the
problem of the soul. The soul is also a central concern in Islamic
ethics and mysticism.
The same may be said of the sources of man’s knowledge, which
has been one of the most controversial problems in Islamic
philosophy. This epistemological question seeks to discover the es-
sential elements that constitute man’s knowledge, and tries to deter-
mine the nature of man’s intellectual life as well as how his thought
is constructed.
These issues, fundamental in themselves and yet linked on many
levels, have preoccupied Muslim philosophers and mystics for
centuries, and have been subjected to many attempts at resolving
them—not the least important of which is the contribution of Mīr
Findiriskī, a Safavid Muslim philosopher. Mīr Findiriskī dealt with
the above questions (among others) using his ‘irfānī-philosophical
methodology, in a very allegorical and highly encoded approach.
Mulla Sadra’s focus, by contrast, is very different from that of
Mīr Findiriskī. He deals with these issues from a completely dif-
ferent angle. He bases himself on the principality and gradation of
existence (‘iṣālat wa tashkīk dar wujūd) and on substantial motion
(ḥarakat al-jawharīyah). The present study will deal with these
problems chiefly from the standpoint of Mīr Findiriskī, but often in
reference to the thought of Mulla Sadra.
In his “Philosophical Ode” (Qaṣīdah Ḥikmīyah) Mīr Findiriskī
deals both directly and indirectly with different ideas and schools
regarding the existence of the soul, the body-soul relation, the soul-
intellect relation, and the immortality and incorporeality of the soul.
Moreover, the whole structure of the poem is built around the prob-
Gnostic Elements in Mīr Findiriskīs Theory 189
lem of the soul and knowledge. He expresses all his concerns and
ideas in the Qaṣīdah, where he views the soul as being at times the
foundation of ethics, at other times the basis of mystical expression,
and even sometimes the subject of philosophy. In his philosophical
thought, he investigates the theory of knowledge and how human
knowledge is formed.
2. Mīr Findiriskī
Although the Ṣafavid dynasty (c. 1501-1736), which marks a turning

point in the history of Shī’ī thought, has been studied extensively
(see Roemer 1986, 189), less consideration has been given to the
scientific and philosophical dynamism of this period, among which,
the philosophical and mystical contributions of Mīr Findiriskī are
significant.
Mīr Abū al-Qāsim Ḥusaynī-i Findiriskī (b. 970/1563, d.
1050/1640-1) is regarded by many scholars as one of the greatest
mystics and philosophers of his time (see Mudarris 1967, 357).
Though he was well versed in a number of difficult languages such
as Sanskrit and Pahlavi, nevertheless it must be accepted that he
was considered somewhat weak in the divine sciences and even in
Arabic (see Afandī Isfahānī 1401/1981, 499). One of the greatest
works of Mīr Findiriskī is his commentary in Persian upon the Yoga
Vasistha, it seems possible that Mīr Findiriskī discovered certain
similarities between Islamic and Hindu mysticism. This also may
explain his interest in traveling so often to India.
Among Mīr Findiriskī’s works we may call his philosophical ode,
Qaṣīdah Ḥikmīyah, essays on motion, Risāla-i Ḥarakat, on tech-
nique, Risālah-i Ṣinā’īyah, and on Hindu wisdom, Muntakhab-i Jug
Basasht (see Mujtabā’ī 1976), to note only the more important ones
(see Nasr 1986). Though Mīr Findiriskī wrote little, what he did
write is considered significant. He frequently taught Peripatetic
philosophy (concentrating on texts such as Ibn Sīnā’s al-Shifā’ and
al-Najāt), mathematics and medicine. Corbin (1993, 340) has noted
that he was “a powerful personality who remains shrouded in a

certain mystery.”
Though many important scholars such as S. J. Āshtiyānī (1971,
62) and H. Corbin consider him a Peripatetic (mashshā’ī) philoso-
pher, yet, based on his philosophical ode and on those contempo-
rary witnesses who believed that Mīr Findiriskī was possessed of
supernatural powers (according to Nasr 2004, 308), we may consi-
der him as a mystical philosopher who played an important role in
the development of Shī’ī ‘irfān (mysticism).
Mīr Findiriskī’s writings indicate that in philosophy he was a
peripatetic philosopher and a faithful follower of Ibn Sīnā for all of
his students except Mulla Sadra (if we accept that Mulla Sadra stu-
died with Mīr Findiriskī) were Avicennan in orientation. Some of his
distinguished students are Aqā Husayn-i Khānsārī (d. 1080/1669-
70), Mullā Muḥammad Bāqir Sabzawārī (d. 1098 or 1099/ 1686-7),
and Mullā Rafī’a Gīlānī (d. 1082/1671-2) (see Nasr 1986, 676 and
Ashtīyānī 1971, 62). Though Mudarris (1967, 358-359) reports that
he was respected by both Shāh ‘Abbās in Iran and the Mughal court
in India, he remained nevertheless disconnected, even in his out-
ward activities, from the material world and wore only plain and
simple clothes.
Mīr Findiriskī’s most famous work; Qaṣīdah Ḥikmīyah, which is
very similar to the Qaṣīdah Yā’īyah of Nāṣir ibn Khusraw Dihlawī,
and survived in three Iranian manuscripts, is very authentic for it
has been commented on by three important scholars; Mullā Mu-
hammad Ṣāliḥ Khalkhālī (1175-1095 solar), Muḥsin ibn Muḥammad
Gīlānī (13th century solar) and ‘Abbās Sharīf Dārābī (ca. 1255-1300
solar), all whom attributed this work to Mīr Findiriskī. It continues
to be highly admired by contemporary philosophers and mystics in
Iran. Though Mīr Findiriskī was not a prolific writer, his Qaṣīdah
essentially explains the principles of ḥikmat, or wisdom, in the sense
of esoteric knowledge.
Here, I wish to explain one of Mīr Findiriskī’s more significant

philosophical ideas as set forth in the philosophical ode entitled
“Qasīda Hikmīyah.” At the same time that Mīr Findiriskī was skilled
in presenting the intellectual and traditional sciences of his time, he

was also experienced in the versification of mystical and philoso-
phical problems. At the very outset of this philosophical ode Mīr
Findiriskī introduces the reader to the well-known theory of Plato-
nic Ideas (al-muthul al-Aflātūnīya). In order to convey a sense of his
style I would therefore like to quote the verses in a literal transli-
teration and translation and then explain the four theories concer-
ning knowledge that Mīr Findiriskī may have intended to convey.
Text (Lines 1-3)
‫ﺻﻮرﺗﻲ در زﻳﺮ دارد ﺁﻧﭽﻪ در ﺑﺎﻻﺳﺘﻲ‬ ‫ ﭼﺮخ ﺑﺎ اﻳﻦ اﺧﺘﺮان ﻧﻐﺰ و ﺧﻮش و زﻳﺒﺎﺳﺘﻲ‬.1
‫ﺑﺮ رود ﺑﺎﻻ هﻤﺎن ﺑﺎ اﺻﻞ ﺧﻮد ﻳﻜﺘﺎﺳﺘﻲ‬ ‫ ﺻﻮرت زﻳﺮﻳﻦ اﮔﺮ ﺑﺎ ﻧﺮدﺑﺎن ﻣﻌﺮﻓﺖ‬.2
‫ﮔﺮ اﺑﻮﻧﺼﺮﺳﺘﻲ ﮔﺮ ﺑﻮﻋﻠﻲ ﺳﻴﻨﺎﺳﺘﻲ‬ ‫ اﻳﻦ ﺳﺨﻨﻬﺎ را در ﻧﻴﺎﺑﺪ هﻴﭻ ﻓﻬﻢ ﻇﺎهﺮي‬.3
1. Charkh bā īn akhtarān naghz wa khush wa zībāstī,

Sūratī dar zīr dārad ānch-i dar bālāstī.
2. Sūrat-i zīrīn ‘agar bā nardibān-i ma’rifat,
Bar ravad bālā hamān bā ‘aṣl-i khud yiktāstī.
3. Īn sukhan rā dar nayābad hich fahm-i ẓāhirī,
Gar Abū Naṣr astī, gar Bū ‘Alī Sīnā astī.
(See Dārābī Shīrāzī 1337/1958)
1. Heaven with these stars is excellent, happy and beautiful;

Whatever there is above has a form below as well.
2. The lower form—if the ladder of inner knowledge,
Be climbed—is one in origin with the higher.
3. No exterior understanding can discover this word,
Whether it be that of an Abū Naṣr (al-Fārābī) or of an Abū ‘Alī (Ibn)
Sīnā.
(A partial translation may be found in Nasr 1983, 923.)
3. The Theory of Knowledge
The question of the sources of human knowledge has long been

discussed both in the Islamic world and in the West. The epistemo-
logical question seeks the essential elements forming man’s know-
ledge while trying to determine the broader nature of human intel-
lectual life and even how thought is itself constructed.
Perception (idrāk) is of two types: first, representation
(taṣawwur) which is a simple and single perception, like the percep-
tion of light or of sound; and second, assertion (taṣdīq), such as
when we say “the sun is brighter than the moon.” Representation, in
turn, is itself of two kinds: first, simple representation (al-taṣawwur
al-basīṭ) as in the perception of existence, unity, etc., and second,
compound representation (al-taṣawwur al-murakkab) which is ma-
de up of two or more single representations, like “golden mountain”
or “orange juice.” However the essential question goes back to the
origin and the sources of simple representation.
3.1. Simple Representation and its Origin

There are four theories that attempt to explain the nature of simple
representation as a mode of perception: rational theory, sensory
theory, extraction theory and the Platonic theory of reminiscence.
As it is beyond the limits of this introduction to cover all these
theories in detail, I would like to deal only briefly with the rational,
sensory and extraction theories and pay a little more attention to the
Platonic theory, where Mīr Findiriskī’s ideas will be clarified.
1. Rational theory. Many European philosophers, such as Des-
cartes and Kant, basically insist that there are two fundamental
sources for man’s representations: feeling and nature. We represent
in our mind heat, light, taste and sound because we feel them with
our sensory organs. We also represent some other concepts such as
God, soul, length, and motion, which clearly are not represented
through our sensory organs; rather we represent them by our na-
ture. Accordingly, the basic sources of man’s representations, Des-
cartes and Kant say, are sensation and nature.
2. Sensory Theory. In contrast to philosophers of the latter

school, John Locke strongly believed that we should consider
sensation as the only source of our representations. According to
him all other representations are made of changes to the repre-
sentations that come from our sensory organs.
3. Abstraction Theory. Muslim philosophers by contrast divide
man’s representations into primary and secondary. Primary repre-
sentations, they say, come directly from sensation. Man then uses
his creativity and his innovative spirit to abstract secondary repre-
sentations from the primary ones.
4. Reminiscence, Platonic Theory (Anamnesis). The theory of
reminiscence is based on two essential principles: first, the existence
of man’s eternal soul and the existence of Ideas or Forms. According
to Plato, man’s soul can exist independently of his body (in fact,
before the body even exists) in a higher world. Man’s soul, which is
capable of dwelling freely in an eternal and higher world, is able to
come into contact there with the incorporeal realities (Ideas) and
understand them. Then, when man’s soul is compelled to descend
from the incorporeal world and approach his body, he loses all his
knowledge. However, when he forms a connection in his mind,
through his feelings, to particular meanings, he remembers the
higher ideas. In fact, worldly meanings are nothing except reflec-
tions and shadows of higher, eternal, Platonic ideas. When man
perceives a meaning in this world, he immediately remembers
higher, eternal, Platonic Ideas. Consequently man’s representations
precede his feelings, which in turn, are nothing more than a memory
of knowledge learned in a past existence.
Mīr Findiriskī’s philosophical ode appears to reflect similar
ideas. According to him, cognition is a result of the remembrance of
previous ideas and representations. This idea is clearly expressed in
Mīr Findiriskī’s philosophical ode. He declares at the beginning that
the universe’s beauty, happiness, and excellence lie in the fact that
its lower aspect (ṣūrat-i zīrīn) is exactly the same as its counterpart
in the higher world. He clearly explains, in the second line, that the
higher form is the origin of man’s representations. The word aṣl (in
verse 2) means the base, the origin, the root, the source, while the
word yiktāstī (in the same line) means “the same,” or “united.” In
the third line, however, Mīr Findiriskī, goes further and declares
that this theory is of such a nature that it had remained unknown
even to such great philosophers as Fārābī and Ibn Sīnā. He states
moreover that the latter two thinkers did not apprehend this theory
because they lacked inner or esoteric understanding. In other words,
if such brilliant thinkers were unable to understand the theory on
the basis of outward knowledge, how could anyone else hope to?
(see Dārābī Shīrāzī 1337/1958, 55) Yet if they had developed their
inner sight, this understanding would have been granted to them,
just as it would be to anyone else.
Text (lines 4, 5)
‫اﻳﻦ ﺑﺪﻧﻬﺎ ﻧﻴﺰ داﻳﻢ زﻧﺪﻩ و ﺑﺮﺟﺎﺳﺘﻲ‬ ‫ ﺟﺎن اﮔﺮ ﻧﻪ ﻋﺎرﺿﺴﺘﻲ زﻳﺮ اﻳﻦ ﭼﺮخ آﺒﻮد‬.4
‫ﻋﻘﻞ ﺑﺮ اﻳﻦ دﻋﻮي ﻣﺎ ﺷﺎهﺪي ﮔﻮﻳﺎﺳﺘﻲ‬ ‫ هﺮﭼﻪ ﺑﺎﺷﺪ ﻋﺎرض اورا ﺟﻮهﺮي ﺑﺎﻳﺪ ﻧﺨﺴﺖ‬.5
4. Jān agar na ārizatī zīr-i īn charkh-i kabūd,

Īn badanhā nīz dā’im zindah wa barpāstī.
5. Har chi bāshad āriz uū rā jowharī bāyad nakhust,
‘Aql bar īn da’vīy-i mā shāhidī gūyāstī.
4. If soul were not an accident under this azure heaven,

These bodies would be forever alive and upright.
5. But whatever is an accident must first have a substance;
The intellect is our express evidence for this claim.
In the above verses Mīr Findiriskī offers reasons in support of what

he asserts in the first two lines of his ode. In verses one and two, he
appears to maintain two philosophically important principles: that
there exists a higher rational universe which contains both the souls
of men and incorporeal realities, and that upper ideas and repre-
sentations are the source of man’s representations (taṣawwurāt) in
this world. In verses four and five Mīr Findiriskī substantiates this
by declaring that if the souls were not accidents within bodies, then
they would have to be essences and consequently bodies would also

be everlasting; yet on the contrary, we see that men’s bodies perish,
and so they are neither eternal nor essential. Inevitably, therefore,
men’s souls are accidental and hence they attach to human bodies as
accidents. The source of a man’s soul or its substance is incorporeal,
universal intellect (‘aql-i kullī-i mujarrad). Mīr Findiriskī maintains
that men’s souls are like forms (ṣuwar, pl. of ṣūrah) and that incur-
poreal, universal intellect is that substance.
3.2. Incorporeal, Universal, Rational Forms and the Incorporeal,

Universal Intellect
To convey more clearly the above process of reasoning, I shall
explain his proof in another way. According to S. M. Ḥ. Ṭabāṭabā’ī, a
twentieth century Muslim philosopher, incorporeal, universal,
rational forms (ṣuwar-i, ‘aqlī-i, kullī-i mujarrad) are comprehended
by the incorporeal, universal intellect (‘aql-i, kullī-i mujarrad). The
incorporeal, universal intellect (‘aql-i, kullī-i mujarrad) overflows
(supplies) incorporeal, universal, rational forms (ṣuwar-i, ‘aqlī-i,
kullī-i mujarrad) to men’s souls. Since these forms are knowledge,
they are incorporeal. And as they are universals, they are common to
all people. Since we know that every material thing that permeates
matter is entirely individual and cannot be shared, it must be true
that rational forms are immaterial and their agents likewise
incorporeal. For a weak material existent cannot create an existence
stronger than itself (see Ṭabāṭabā’ī 1990, 257-258).
One may say that the agent (fā‘il) of incorporeal, universal,
rational forms is man’s own soul. This assertion however seems a
false one, for the relation of man’s soul to incorporeal, universal,
rational forms is in potency (bi al-quwwah) not in actuality (bi al-
fi‘l). And a thing in potency cannot of its own accord transform itself
from a state of potency to one of actuality. Consequently the agent of
incorporeal, universal, rational forms is an incorporeal substance,
which contains all incorporeal, universal, rational forms.
Text (line 6)
‫ ﻣﻲ ﺗﻮاﻧﻲ ﮔﺮ ز ﺧﻮرﺷﻴﺪ اﻳﻦ ﺻﻔﺘﻬﺎ آﺴﺐ آﺮد روﺷﻦ اﺳﺖ و ﺑﺮ هﻤﻪ ﺗﺎﺑﺎن و ﺧﻮد ﻳﻜﺘﺎﺳﺘﻲ‬.6
6. Mītavānī gar zi khurshīd īn sifathā kasb kard,

rowshan ast wa bar hamah tābān wa khud yiktāstī.
If you can obtain these qualities from the sun,

The sun is bright and shines upon all things while keeping its unity.
In this verse Mīr Findiriskī likens the relationship between

incorporeal, universal, rational forms, and the incorporeal, universal
intellect to the sun and its rays. As the sun is the agent and cause of
its rays of light, the incorporeal, universal intellect is the agent and
cause of the soul. Like the sun, which is the beginner and completer
of the rays, the incorporeal, universal intellect is also the beginner
and completer of the soul. And just as the rays are entirely related to
the sun, and have no independent existence, man’s soul is similarly
related to the incorporeal, universal intellect.
Text (lines 7- 8)
‫ هﻢ ﺑﻲ هﻤﻪ ﻣﺠﻤﻮع و ﻳﻜﺘﺎﺳﺘﻲ‬،‫ﺑﺎ هﻤﻪ‬ ‫ ﺟﻮهﺮ ﻋﻘﻠﻲ آﻪ ﺑﻲ ﭘﺎﻳﺎن و ﺟﺎوﻳﺪان ﺑﻮد‬.7

‫ هﻢ ﭘﻨﻬﺎن و هﻢ ﭘﻴﺪاﺳﺘﻲ‬،‫در دل هﺮ ذرﻩ‬ ‫ ﺟﺎن ﻋﺎﻟﻢ ﮔﻮﻳﻤﺶ ﮔﺮ رﺑﻂ ﺟﺎن داﻧﻲ ﺑﻪ ﺗﻦ‬.8
7. Ṣūrat-i ‘aqlī ki bī pāyān wa jāwīdān buwad,

Bā hamah wa bī hamah majmū’ wa yiktāstī.
8. Jān-i ‘ālam gūyamash gar rabt-i jān dānī bi tan,
Dar dil-i har zarra ham pinhān wa ham paydāstī.
7. The rational form which is endless and eternal,

With or without all things is a totality and unity.
8. I call it the soul of the universe, if you believe in the body-soul
connection,
In the heart of every atom it is both hidden and visible.
One of the most fundamental philosophical problems is the relation

of soul and body. Mīr Findiriskī shows in the above verses that he
believes in the duality of soul and body, as did Plato. In his Gorgias
and Phaedrus, Plato indicates that, in fact, the soul and body are two
separate substances. Accordingly the soul-body relation is
accidental. As M. Muṭahharī (1366/1987, 10) says, Plato likens this
relation to that of a bird and its pigeonhole, or to that of a rider and
his mount, though we clearly see no substantial connection between
a bird and its pigeonhole or between a rider and his mount. How-
ever, this idea was rejected by Aristotle and later on by Ibn Sīnā.
They considered the soul-body relation to be much stronger than
Plato had envisaged it. They said that the soul-body relation is like
the relation of form (ṣūrah) and matter (māddah). But in this case,
soul is with body, not in body. Soul is not eternal and precedes no
knowledge. Soul aquires all its knowledge in this world. However,
this theory was only developed in the following centuries.
Philosophers were later to attempt to establish a closer connection
between soul and body.
In contrast to Mīr Findiriskī, who paid close attention to the

Platonic doctrine of Ideas, his supposed pupil and/or his contempo-
rary, Mulla Sadra, said that both soul and body are the result of
motion. In fact, Mulla Sadra said matter has the potentiality to
develop in itself something immaterial. Mulla Sadra thus on the one
hand disagreed with Plato, saying that the soul does not precede the
body or its knowledge, while on the other hand he differed with
Aristotle, Ibn Sīnā and Mīr Findiriskī over the claim that the relation
of soul and body is not like that between form and matter, but is
rather much stronger. Soul is a higher level of body. Soul is a perfect
level of body. In other words body, with its four dimensions (length,
width, depth and time) will grow a new and fifth dimension as well.
They call the fifth dimension the spiritual dimension, one that exists
and develops simultaneously with the body (see Muṭahharī
1366/1987, 14-17).
4. The existence and the nature of the soul
Verses 27-34 argue about soul and its scope. In these verses Mīr
Findiriskī ennumerates different schools of thought on the problem
of soul. To have a clear idea of what Mīr Findiriskī says let us look at
this problem more closely and then interpret the relevant verses.
It is hardly possible to give a complete picture of what was deba-
ted among Muslim philosophers and theologians concerning the
origin and nature of the soul. Though it is not in keeping with the
nature of the present paper to go through details of these schools
and review them one by one, in the following verses, Mīr Findiriskī
exclusively addresses different schools of thought in regard to the
existence and the nature of the soul. It is worth mentioning at the
outset that the word dānā in these verses means the knower, the
most eminent scholar’s view in this regard.
Text (line 27)
‫ ﻧﻔﺲ ﻣﺎ را ﺑﻌﺪ ﻣﺎ ﺣﺸﺮ اﺳﺖ و ﻧﺸﺮ هﺮ ﻋﻤﻞ آﻪ اﻣﺮوز آﺮد او را ﺟﺰا ﻓﺮداﺳﺘﻲ‬،‫ ﮔﻔﺖ داﻧﺎ‬.27
27. Guft dānā nafs mā rā ba’d-i mā ḥashr ast wa nashr,

Har ‘amal kimrūz kard uū rā jazā fardāstī.
27. The sage (savant) has said our soul will have resurrection,
For every action a human being does today; he’ll be recompensed
(sanctioned) tomorrow.
Muslim jurists believe in both the physical as well as the spiritual

resurrection of the soul. The verse declares the idea of the follower
of the shari’ah who insists that when soul separates, the body will be
resurrected again in the hereafter in the form of his worldly actions.
If he did good actions in his present world, in the hereafter the soul
will emerge and become manifest in a good form and if he did bad
actions in this world it shall become manifest and emerge in a bad
forming the next world. According to a prophetic tradition the
present world is considered to be a farm for the hereafter (al-

ddunīyā mazra’at al-ākhirah). It means whatever men do in the
present world, whether good or bad, there shall be compensation in
the hereafter, as it is the case with a farmer. A farmer can only
harvest whatever he cultivates and plants, neither more nor less.
Text (line 28)
‫ او ﻣﻮﻻﺳﺘﻲ‬،‫ ﻋﺎﺷﻖ و ﻣﻌﺸﻮق‬،‫ﻧﻔﺲ ﺑﻨﺪﻩ‬ ‫ او را ﺳﺘﻮدن ﻣﺸﻜﻞ اﺳﺖ‬،‫ ﻧﻔﺲ را ﻧﺘﻮان ﺳﺘﻮد‬.28
28. Nafs rā natvān sutūd, uū rā sutūdan mushkil ast,

Nafs-i bandih, ‘āshiq wa ma‘shūq, uū mawlāstī.
Soul (self) should not be praised, (for) to commend the soul is proble-
matic
The lord and master of every slave, whether lover or beloved, is God.
Some ancient scholars believe that souls are essentially pre-eternal

(qadīm-i bi-dhāt). Some of this group of philosophers were certain
of only one pre-eternal, that is, the essentially necessary existence of
the soul. The others of this group, who were called Ḥarrānīyūn,
believed that there exist five pre-eternal things; soul (nafs),
necessary existence (wājib al-wujūd), time (zamān), place (makān),
and prime matter (hayūlā). Mīr Findiriskī address the Ḥarrānīyūn’s
conception in his first hemistich of this verse and in the second
hemistich of this verse he rejects this idea, stating that the soul
should not be praised, for the soul in its first origination is
imperfect, looking for and loving perfection. Eventually, the soul
moves in the direction of anticipated perfection. Every moved article
needs a mover. Every seeker of perfection needs a perfected agent to
move him from potentiality to actuality and perfection. The creators
of souls are the intellects and the originator of the intellects is
necessary existence (see Dārābī Shīrāzī 1337/1958, 155). Thus, soul
cannot be the originator and cannot be praised, for the main
originator of the soul is intellect and the originator of the intellect is
necessary existence. Accordingly, God is the lord and master of

every lover or beloved who is praiseworthy.
Text (line 29)
‫ ﺁزاد و ﺑﻴﻬﻤﺘﺎﺳﺘﻲ‬،‫در ﺟﺰا و در ﻋﻤﻞ‬ ‫ ﻧﻔﺲ ﻣﺎ را ﺑﻌﺪ ﻣﺎ ﺑﺎﺷﺪ وﺟﻮد‬،‫ ﮔﻔﺖ داﻧﺎ‬.29
29. Guft dānā, nafs-i mā rā ba‘d-i mā bāshad vujūd,

Dar jazā va dar ‘amal, āzād va bī hamtāstī.
The sage has said that after us (i.e. after we died) we will still exist,
(No matter) whether in compensation or action, we will be free (of any
charge) and unique.
Some of the peripatetic philosophers believe in spiritual resurrecti-

on. Although they believe that when men die, their souls will survi-
ve, nevertheless they do not give credence to the revivification and
resurrection of the bodies, as they do not accept compensation and
retribution. However this idea is incompatible with divine law, and
was strongly rejected by Muslim jurists, mystics, and by those of
intelligence (see Dārābī Shīrāzī 1337/1958, 157).
Text (line 30)
‫ ﻧﻔﺲ ﺑﻲ اﻧﺠﺎم و ﺑﻲ ﻣﺒﺪاﺳﺘﻲ‬،‫ﮔﻔﺖ داﻧﺎ‬ ‫ ﻧﻔﺲ ﻣﺎ را ﺁﻏﺎز و اﻧﺠﺎﻣﻲ ﺑﻮد‬،‫ ﮔﻔﺖ داﻧﺎ‬.30
30. Guft dānā nafs rā āghāz va anjāmī buvad,

guft dānā nafs bī anjām va bī mabdāstī.
30. The sage has said that soul has beginning and ending,
The sage has said soul is beginningless and endless.
The first hemistich points to the idea of those who consider nafs as
mizāj (a common quality which results in all physical elements
performed by different parts of the body). In this case, nafs emerges
with body and vanishes with body. The second hemistich indicates
the conception of those who consider the soul to be essentially
eternal, with neither beginning nor end.
According to Dārābī Shīrāzī (1337/1958, 158) the first hemistich
refers to Aristotle’s view of the simultaneous origination (ḥudūth) of
the soul with body and the second hemistich indicates Plato’s view
of the eternity of the soul. Dārābī Shīrāzī rejects Plato’s idea, and
claims that the correct view is that the soul emerges with the body.
According to him, Plato’s view concerning the eternity of soul leads
back to an incisive point. Plato does not want to say the soul itself is
eternal; rather Plato holds that the inner essence of the soul, which
is the intellect, is eternal.
Let us look at Plato’s idea more specifically. Concerning the
proof of man’s soul Plato argues that men perform actions and show
capacities, which are not bodily. Such actions and capacities should
accordingly belong to the soul. Plato identifies the nature of the soul
as, on one hand, something that infuses life in the body when occu-
pying it, and, on the other hand, as something related to life itself, or
something identical with life. Being self-moving also is an appea-
rance or a sign of life. Since Plato sometimes defines the soul as
“pure thought,” and sometimes considers it as the source of life and
movement of the body, we may not arrive at the exact meaning and
definition that Plato gives us (compare Fārābi 1985, 12). It is
remarkable that Plato is probably the first philosopher to make a
sharp distinction between the soul and the body, holding that the
soul could exist both before and after its residence in the body and
rule the body during that residence.
Contrary to Plato, Aristotle holds that the soul relates to the body
as form to matter. The body is the very instrument of the soul, for
matter is merely potency and exists only in so far as it is necessary
for the realization of a form, whereas, the soul is inevitably bound
up with the body, and can have no life apart from it. In consi-
deration of the Platonic and Aristotelian points of view, one may
arrive at totally different views about man. Plato sees the soul abso-
lutely separate from the body. He thought of soul as something that
exists before joining the body. Aristotle rejected the idea of a duality
between the soul and the body, and believes that these two things
are two elements of a single substance.
Text (line 31)
‫ﺁﺗﺶ و ﺁب و هﻮا و اﺳﻔﻞ و اﻋﻼﺳﺘﻲ‬ ‫ ﻧﻔﺲ را ﻣﺎﺿﻲ و ﺣﺎﻟﺴﺖ و ﺳﭙﺲ‬،‫ ﮔﻔﺖ داﻧﺎ‬.31
31. Guft dānā, nafs rā māḍī va ḥālast va sipas,

Ātash va āb va havā va asfal va a‘lāstī.
31. The sage said, soul has past and present, and after,
It is fire and water and weather and lower and upper.
The first hemistich refers to some scholars who believe in the

materiality (jismīyat) of the soul. According to Dārābī Shīrāzī
(1337/1958, 160), some theologians believe that the soul is fine sub-
stance (jism-i laṭīf) flowing (running) in the body. The second hemi-
stich indicates another ancient school of thought. Those who believe
that the soul consists of four elements fire, water, earth and air.
It is impossible to give a complete picture of what was argued
among Muslim philosophers and theologians concerning the nature
of the soul during the past centuries. However, Ḥasanzādeh Amulī
(1982, 122-123) reports that Al-Abīwardī (d. 966 AD) in his Rawḍāt
al-Jannāt declares that there are numerous and divers ways of
understanding what is referred to by “ana” (I), namely nafs. Here
are some of its meanings:
1. The majority of theologians believe that nafs (soul) is precisely

the observable structure we referred to as badan (body).
2. Nafs is identical to the fleshy heart located inside our body.
3. Nafs is our brain.
4. Al-Naẓẓām believed that nafs is a collection of some indivisible
elements located in the heart.
5. Nafs consists of the fundamental parts (al-aḍā’ al-’aṣlīyyah),
which are produced from sperms.
6. Nafs is mizāj (temperament, a common quality that comes out of

the combination of all elements).
7. Nafs is fine body (jism-i laṭīf), which runs through the body like
water through the rose.
8. Nafs is just the same as water.
9. Nafs is identical to fire or instinctive heat (al-ḥarārah al-
gharīzīyyah).
10. Nafs is the breath (al-nafas).
11. Nafs is the Creator (bārī)—but He is exalted above what cruel
people claim.
12. Nafs consists of four elements namely, water, earth, fire and air.
13. Nafs is the species kind that subsists in the body and is united
with it.
14. Nafs is an incorporeal substance that cannot be equated with the
body and does not have any corporeal characteristic (such as
quantity, shape, direction, place, and position) but it is related to
the coarse body (jism-i kathīf) in such a way as to allow it to
govern that body and to utilize it much like the governor does a
city or the one who loves the beloved. This is the idea of majority
of Muslim philosophers, Illuminationists, mystics and theolo-
gians, particularly Naṣīr al-Dīn Ṭūsī, al-Rāzī and al-Ghazālī.
Considering all these doctrines about the nature of the soul and
soul-body relation, one can hardly find a commonly accepted doc-
trine among Muslim philosophers and theologians.
It worth mentioning that in regard to the origination of the soul
there might be assumed four classifications or four main theories
and opinions (see Dārābī Shīrāzī 1337/1958, 161):
1. The majority of philosophers: soul is spiritual both in temporal
origination and in survival (rawḥānīat al-ḥudūth wa al-baqā).
2. Galen: soul is material both in temporal origination and in its
survival (jismānīat al-ḥudūth wa al-baqā).
3. A few believers in reincarnation: soul is spiritual in temporal
origination and material in survival (rawḥānīat al-ḥudūth wa
jismānīat al-baqā).
4. Mulla Sadra: soul is material in temporal origination and
spiritual in survival (jismānīat al-ḥudūth wa rawḥānīat al-baqā).
Text (line 32)
‫ﻣﻲ ﻧﻤﺎﻧﺪ ﺑﻌﺪ ﻣﺎ ﻧﻔﺴﻲ آﻪ او ﻣﺎ راﺳﺘﻲ‬ ‫ ﻧﻔﺲ ﻣﺎ را ﺑﻌﺪ ﻣﺎ ﻧﺒﻮد وﺟﻮد‬،‫ ﮔﻔﺖ داﻧﺎ‬.32
32. Guft dānā, nafs-i mā rā ba’d-i mā nabwad wujūd,

Miy namānad ba’d-i mā nafsī ki ‘ū mā rāstī.
32. The scholar said, there would be no life after the present,
There will be no soul (self) that fit us.
Galen’s school believes that soul is the mizāj (an accident = ‘araḍ)
(temperament, a common quality which outcome of all physical
elements performed by different parts of the body) and therefore is
material both in temporal origination and in survival (jismānīyat al-
ḥudūth wa al-baqā). Accordingly, mizāj will not endure after the
destruction of the body (see Dārābī Shīrāzī 1337/1958, 161).
Text (line 33)
‫ ﻧﻘﺲ ﻧﻲ ﺑﻲ ﺟﺎ و ﻧﻲ ﺑﺎ ﺟﺎ ﺳﺘﻲ‬،‫ﮔﻘﺖ داﻧﺎ‬ ‫ ﻧﻘﺲ هﻢ ﺑﺎ ﺟﺎ و هﻢ ﺑﻲ ﺟﺎ ﺑﻮد‬،‫ ﮔﻘﺖ داﻧﺎ‬.33
33. Guft dānā, nafs ham bā jā va ham bī jā buvad,

Guft dānā, nafs niy bī jā va niy bā jāstī.
33. The knower said, soul is both with room (place) and without room,
The knower said, soul neither is without room nor it is with room.
The first hemistich of this verse indicates the same meaning as the
second hemistich. Mīr Findiriskī in this verse points to the idea of
those philosophers (like Mullā Ṣadrā and Mullā Hādī Sabzawārī)
who recognize soul to be a unique reality that subsists at different
virtuous (mutafāḍil) levels (see Dārābī Shīrāzī 1337/1958, 163).
Mulla Sadra’s doctrine of the physical origin of the soul would seem
to be a more properly discussed in natural philosophy, but our
philosopher believed that ‘ilm al-nafs is a preliminary step toward
knowing God and being aware of what will happen in the other
world as far as the gathering (ḥashr) of individual souls and bodies
is concerned. These goals would be achievable if we considered the
soul as a being that survives and leads us to God both in its gen-
eration (ḥudūth) and its survival (baqā’). Between its physical
generation and its survival in the hereafter it might assume many
virtuous levels for different people.
Text (line 34)
‫ ﻧﻪ ﺑﻪ ﺷﺮط ﻻﺳﺘﻲ‬،‫ﻧﻪ ﺑﻪ ﺷﺮط ﺷﻴﻰ ﺑﺎﺷﺪ‬ ‫ ﮔﻘﺖ‬،‫ ﻧﻘﺲ را وﺻﻘﻲ ﻧﻴﺎرم هﻴﭻ‬،‫ ﮔﻘﺖ داﻧﺎ‬.34
34. Guft dānā, nafs rā vaṣfī nayāram hīch guft,

Na bi shart-i shay’ bāshad, na bi shart-i lāstī.
34. The knower said, I do not describe (qualify) the soul (self) with
anything, (the knower) said,
It is neither conditioned by something, nor negatively conditioned.
Description or qualification here, in the poet’s words, means defi-

nition. The poet intends to say that since nafs has no quiddity, it has
no definition, for definition of quiddity is by quiddity. Whatever has
no quiddity has no definition and therefore it is neither conditioned
by something (bi sharṭ-i shay’), nor negatively conditioned (bi sharṭ-
i lā). The majority of philosophers confirm only Necessary Existence
(wajb al-wujūd) as to be pure reality without quiddity. They main-
tain everything to be a composition, a pair consisting of existence
and quiddity. Contrary to the preponderance of philosophers Shihāb
al-Dīn Sohravardī is of the opinion that not only the Necessary
Existence, but, also the soul and the intellect are pure realities
(wujūd-i ṣirf) having no quiddity and thus have no definition and
therefore they are neither conditioned by something, nor negatively-
conditioned (see Dārābī Shīrāzī 1337/1958, 164). According to Soh-
ravardī, the pure reality of the existence of nafs is like God in that it
is pure reality. He maintains that nafs neither has a genus nature
(al-ṭabī’at al-jinsīyah) nor has specific nature (al-ṭabī’at al-
naw’īyah). Nafs also has no individual nature (al-ṭabī’at al-

shshkhṣīyah). Nafs is a kind of existence. Its unity is also like the
unity of Necessary Existence; without genus nature, specific nature
or individual nature.
5. Conclusion
In sum, as it is clear through the different definitions provided by

Mīr Findiriskī in his philosophical ode, it is quite laborious to give a
fair definition or a complete picture of what was debated among
Muslim philosophers and theologians concerning the nature and the
definition of the soul. Examining Mīr Findiriskī’s writing concerning
the soul, it is only with difficulty that one may find his exact idea.
However, his more Aristotelian approach might lead us to the idea
that soul is a perfection of the body, which makes the body alive.
Still we may see surely Platonic ideas as well in Mīr Findiriskī’s
doctrine. I think regarding the soul-body relation problem, he belie-
ves that the soul needs the body as a tool. But being substantially
apart from the body, the soul continues its life after the death.
Preferring the idea of Plato because of its spirituality, which is
nearer to the spirit of Islamic thought, Mīr Findiriskī tends to be
more Platonic in his approach to the explanation of the soul. What
we may also surely assign to Mīr Findiriskī concerning his idea on
the nature of the soul is that he is neither of the opinion that the soul
existed before its connection with the body—as Plato believed—nor
does he hold the idea of transformation of the soul into another
body—as the proponents of metempsychosis (aṣḥāb al-tanāsukh)
believed. Trying to show the nature of the soul and its spiritual
activities, Mīr Findiriskī comes to an esoteric conclusion. As he
states in a verse, although many people may utter cryptic words,
nevertheless the real meanings of these words are still mysterious.
According to Mīr Findiriskī the only way to solve these problems
and come to a fair understanding of the true nature of the soul is
through spiritual purification under the teaching of the Innocent
Imams.
References
Afandī Isfahānī, M. ‘A. (1401/1981) Rīyāḍ al-’Ulamā wa Hīyāḍ al-

Fuḍalā, ed. Aḥmad Ḥusaynī, Qom: Maṭba’at Khayyām.
Amulī, Ḥ. (1982) ‘Uyūnu Mas’il al-Nafs, Tehran: Mu’assassah
Intishārāt-i Amīr Kabīr.
Āshtīyānī, S. J. (1971) Anthologie des Philosophes Iraniens, pref. by
Henry Corbin, Vol. 1, Tehran/Paris: Institut Franco-Iranien.
Corbin, H. (1372/1993) Mulla Sadra, tr. Zabīhuallah Mansūrī,
Tehran: Sāzmān-i Entishārāt-i Jāvīdān, 1372 H.S.
Corbin, H. (1993) History of Islamic Philosophy, tr. Liadain
Sherrard & Philip Sherrard, London & New York: Kegan Paul
International.
Dārābī Shīrāzī, A. Sh. (1337/1958) Tuhfat al-Murād: Sharh-i
Qasīdih-i Ḥikmīya Abū al-Qāsim Mīr Findiriskī, Tehran: Shirkat-i
Nisbī Hāj Muhammad Husain Iqbal wa Shurakā’.
Fārābī, A. N. (1985) Kitāb al-Jam` Bayna Ra’yayn al-Ḥakīmayn, 4th
ed., Beirut: Dār al-Mashriq.
Mudarris, M. M. ‘A. (1967) Rayhānat al-Adab fī Tarājim-i al-Ma’rū-
fīn bi al-Kunya wa al-Laqab, Vol. 4, Tabrīz: Chapkhānah-i Shafaq.
Mujtabā’ī, F. (1976) Muntakhab-i Jug-basasht or Selections from the
Yoga-Vāsiṣṭha attributed to Mīr Abu al-Qāsim Findiriskī, Ph.D
Dissertation, Harvard University.
Mulla Sadra (1981) Al-Asfār, Vols. 6 and 8, Beirut: Dār al-Ihyā’ al-
Turāth al-’Arabī.
Muṭahharī, M. (1366/1987) Maqālāt-i Falsafī, Vol. 1, Tehran:
‘Intishārāt-i Hikmat.
Nasr, S. H. (2004) “Findiriskī,” Encyclopedia of Islam, New ed.,
Vol. XII, Supplement, Brill: Leiden, 308-309.
Nasr, S. H. (1986) “Spiritual Movements, Philosophy and Theology
in the Safavīd Period,” in The Cambridge History of Iran, Volume
6, The Timurid and Safavīd periods, ed. Peter Jackson &
Laurence Lockhart, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 656-
697.
Nasr, S. H. (1983) “The School of Isfahān,” in A History of Muslim

Philosophy, ed. M. Sharif, Vol. 2, Karāchī: Royal Book Company,
922-926.
Roemer, H. R. (1986) “The Safavīd Period,” In The Cambridge
History of Iran, Volume 6, The Timurid and Safavīd periods, ed.
Peter Jackson & Laurence Lockhart, Cambridge: Cambridge
Ṭabāṭabā’ī, S. M. H. (1990) Aghāz-i Falsafa, Qom: Intishārāt-i
Ṭabāṭabā’ī.
How can I Survive? The Concept of the
Soul and the Problem of Diachronic
Personal Identity*
Josef Quitterer, Innsbruck
Christian philosophers in the analytic tradition are very sceptical

concerning the old notion of the soul as a principle for the justifica-
tion of the diachronic identity of human persons for the following
reason: the Aristotelian notion of the soul cannot integrate the self-
referential activities—the first person perspective—which today are
regarded as essential for human persons. Therefore they prefer
Locke’s theory of personal identity even in the justification of post-
mortem survival.
In my paper I first sketch the main difficulties Christian philoso-
phers, like Richard Swinburne and Lynne Rudder Baker, meet when
it comes to the question of (post-mortem) survival. In a second step
I reintroduce the Aristotelian concept of the soul as a heuristic tool
for the justification of personal survival. When the soul is under-
stood as the essential form of an organism, we have as a conse-
quence not only the compatibility of biological and cognitive aspects
of our personal existence, but also a sound principle of diachronic
identity which can be used in a philosophical justification of resur-
rection. Furthermore it can be shown that the concept of the soul is
open for the integration of personal attributes like first-person per-
spective and self-consciousness.
1. Locke’s theory of diachronic personal identity and Christian

philosophy
Christian philosophers, like Richard Swinburne and Lynne Rudder

Baker, base their theory of personal identity on Locke’s assump-
tions. According to John Locke we have to assume different condi-
210 Josef Quitterer
tions for the diachronic identity of simple substances (physical sub-

stances), living beings and persons. Simple substances remain the
same as long as their physical structure is preserved:
[…] if two or more atoms be joined together into the same mass, every
one of those atoms will be the same […]: and whilst they exist united
together, the mass, consisting of the same atoms, must be the same
mass […] (Locke Essay, Book 2, Ch. 27, § 3).
Living beings (animals, plants), in contrast, have the following con-

ditions of diachronic identity: “In the state of living creatures, their
identity depends not on a mass of the same particles but on some-
thing else. For in them the variation of great parcels of matter alters
not the identity” (Locke Essay, Book 2, Ch. 27, § 3). The diachronic
identity of living beings does not depend on the identity of the mat-
ter involved in their existence but it depends on the same organic
life of that animal:
An animal is a living organized body; and consequently the same

animal […] is the same continued life communicated to different
particles of matters, as they happen successively to be united to that
organized living body (Locke Essay, Book 2, Ch. 27, § 8).
For persons, Locke establishes again different conditions of dia-

chronic identity. Locke departs from the following definition of the
concept Person: “[A person] is a thinking intelligent being, that has
reason and reflection, and can consider itself as itself, the same
thinking being in different times and places […]” (Locke Essay, Book
2, Ch. 27, § 9).
Based upon this definition, the diachronic identity of persons is con-

stituted by the cognitive capacity of self-reflection or self-conscious-
ness:
[…] in this alone consists personal identity, i.e., the sameness of a ra-
tional being: and as far as this consciousness can be extended
backwards to any past action or thought, so far reaches the identity of
How can I survive? 211
that person; it is the same self now it was then; […] (Locke Essay, Book
2, Ch. 27, § 9).
In this justification of the diachronic identity of human persons, the

concept ‘self’ plays an essential role. John Locke made the notion of
‘self’ a prominent term in modern philosophy. The thing we call a
self is based on consecutive acts of consciousness bound together
because of our ability to remember: “Self is that conscious thinking
thing […] which is sensible, or conscious of pleasure and pain, capa-
ble of happiness or misery, and so is concerned for itself, as far as
that consciousness extends” (Locke Essay, Book 2, Ch. 27, § 17).
Personal diachronic identity—in this view—is based upon rela-
tions between different mental states. As far as we can remember, as
far relations between mental states can be established by the sub-
ject, so far the same self can be maintained. We can count to our self
only these mental states which are connected to our consciousness.
The human organism is of no further importance for Locke’s condi-
tions of personal identity. Consciousness alone suffices. Rejecting
the elder notion of ‘soul’ as unclear and inaccessible to human expe-
rience Locke deemed the concept of self to be sufficient for guar-
anteeing personal identity throughout time:
[…] it is plain, consciousness, as far as ever it can be extended, should

it be to ages past, unites existences and actions, very remote in time,
into the same person, as well as it does the existences and actions of
the immediately preceding moment: so whatever has the
consciousness of present and past actions, is the same person to whom
I belong (Locke Essay, Book 2, Ch. 27, § 17).
Human persons, thus, are constituted solely due to their ability to

recall into consciousness what they attribute to themselves because
of having experienced it personally.
Locke’s notion of the self is well received within contemporary
philosophy of mind, cognitive science, and bioethics: it is presup-
posed in the bioethical arguments of Peter Singer and in Daniel
Dennett’s naturalistic philosophy; but it is also presupposed in non-
212 Josef Quitterer
naturalistic approaches of Christian philosophers like Richard

Swinburne and Lynne Rudder Baker.
According to Swinburne, persons are mental substances. Persons
have bodies but they do not need them in order to exist (Swinburne
2006, 45). This sounds like normal Cartesian substance-dualism.
The Lockean character of the psycho-physical dualism of Swinburne
becomes obvious if we have a closer look on his arguments for the
diachronic identity of mental substances like persons. According to
Swinburne, the diachronic identity of persons does not depend on
their physical constitution. Personal diachronic identity depends ex-
clusively on the assumption that persons are essentially mental sub-
stances. ‘Mental substance’ is defined by Swinburne as a “substance
to whose existence that substance necessarily has privileged access”
(Swinburne 2006, 44). As we have seen above, also Locke makes
personal identity dependent on the subject’s ability to have con-
scious access to past experiences, actions etc.
In a similar way as Locke, Swinburne distinguishes between the
conditions for the identity of physical substances, of organisms and
of persons. In contrast to physical things or organisms, the dia-
chronic identity of persons does not depend on the assembly of
physical parts or certain functional principles but exclusively on
‘facts’ which lie in the cognitive or mental realm: “[…] mere know-
ledge of what happens to bodies does not tell you what happens to
persons” (Swinburne 1997, 10); “[…] that mental events are states of
the same subject is something that knowledge of brains and their
states and knowledge of which mental events were occurring would
be insufficient to tell you” (Swinburne 1997, 158).
Spatiotemporal continuity of brains and bodies is not sufficient
for guaranteeing the identity of persons. According to Swinburne,
we select brain continuity “as evidence of personal identity, because
that is the part of the body which is correlated with continuity of
apparent memory and character […]” (Swinburne 1997, 166). The
identity of the body “is only used as evidence of personal identity,
given that the body retains the same brain” and brain identity is so
important because the brain is “the organ, the continuity of which
normally guarantees continuity of apparent memory and character”
(Swinburne 1997, 165). Normally brain continuity and apparent

memory coincide as criteria of the diachronic identity of two per-
sons x and y. What, though, should we do in cases where the two
criteria are in conflict? The criterion of apparent memory could be
fulfilled when there is no brain continuity—e.g. in the thought-ex-
periment of brain splitting, and the criterion of brain continuity
could be satisfied when there is no apparent memory—e.g. in cases
of amnesia (Swinburne 1997, 162). In the case of conflicting criteria
of diachronic identity the answer of Swinburne follows the logic of
Locke’s theory of diachronic personal identity:
[…] in general apparent memory reveals that personal identity goes

with brain continuity. […] brain continuity is in practice a necessary
condition of personal identity […] That will not tell us what is the right
answer when brains are split; nor does it cast any doubt on the fact
that the ultimate foundation for the belief that personal identity is
carried by brain continuity is apparent memory, and that any general
failure of the correlation between continuity of apparent memory and
continuity of brain must lead us to take brain continuity no longer as
evidence of personal identity (Swinburne 1997, 170).
Apparent memory is the ultimate foundation of personal identity

because it is based upon the privileged access (the first-person per-
spective) the subject has towards its own mental states. Swinburne
uses the concept of the “informative designator”, ‘I’, to underline the
epistemic quality of the infallible access we have to ourselves:
Now what sort of designator is ‘I’ (or ‘Richard Swinburne’, as used by

me)? These seem to be informative designators. If I know how to use
these words, I can’t be mistaken about when to apply them […]; and
when I am considering applying them to a person in virtue of his being
a subject of experience, no mistake at all is possible. I am in
Shoemaker’s phrase ‘immune to error though misidentification’. I
cannot recognize that some experience (e.g. pain) is occurring and
wonder whether it is mine or not, in the way that I can know how to
use the word ‘Hesperus’, and yet wonder whether the planet at which I
am looking is Hesperus (Swinburne 2006, 56f.).
214 Josef Quitterer
There might be cases where there is vagueness or uncertainty con-

cerning the diachronic identity of a person x with a person y or an-
other person z. Swinburne illustrates this possibility with the
thought experiment of split brains:
[…] imagine my brain (hemispheres plus brain-stem) divided into two,

and each half-brain taken out of my skull and transplanted into the
empty skull of a body from which a brain has just been removed; and
there to be added to each half-brain from some other brain […] if this
operation were done and we then had two living persons, both with
lives of conscious experiences, which would be me? (Swinburne 2006,
47)
It is further assumed that both persons “behave like me and claim to

be me and to remember having done what I did”. In this case of
brain splitting diachronic identity is neither guaranteed by physical
nor by psychological continuity, because both successors of the
original person fulfil in the same way these criteria of identity.
According to Swinburne, it is the ‘extra truth’ of the privileged ac-
cess we have towards ourselves, by which we can resolve such cases
of vagueness or indeterminacy of diachronic personal identity:
And note that the extra truth is not a truth about what kind of mental
life is connected to each brain. It is not a truth about mental
properties, about what thoughts and feelings and purposes the revived
person has. Rather, the extra truth, the truth about whether I have
survived, is a truth about WHO has those thoughts and feelings, that is
in which substance those properties are instantiated (Swinburne 2006,
52).
This infallible truth which appears in self-attributions and self-ref-

erences guarantees diachronic personal identity by avoiding the
vagueness, arbitrariness or indeterminacy of identity statements.
Another Christian philosopher who bases her arguments upon
Locke’s theory of diachronic personal identity is Lynne Rudder Ba-
ker. According to Rudder Baker’s so called ‘constitution view’, hu-
man persons are constituted by human organisms. For Rudder Ba-
ker it is very important to distinguish between constitution and
identity. Human persons are not identical with but constituted by

human organisms. Human persons and human organisms have dif-
ferent essential properties and therefore different identity-conditi-
ons: The essential property of human organisms has to be located
within the specific biological properties which are typical for human
organisms, whereby the essential property of persons consists in the
fact that they have a ‘first-person perspective’ towards their own
mental states. ‘Having a first-person perspective’ is defined by Rud-
der Baker as having the “ability to conceive of oneself as oneself”
(Rudder Baker 2000, 66) or as having “a perspective from which
one thinks of oneself as an individual facing a world, as a subject di-
stinct from everything else” (Rudder Baker 2000, 60).
The different essential properties of human organisms and per-
sons imply different conditions of diachronic identity: Human orga-
nisms begin to exist at conception; human persons begin to exist not
before the human organism constitutes a subject which is able to
develop a first-person perspective towards its own mental states.
The diachronic identity of human persons is preserved through the
same first-person perspective, while the diachronic identity of hu-
man organisms is guaranteed through the specific living processes
of the organism: “In the first place, a person is defined in terms of a
first-person perspective. So, person P1 at t1 is the same person as
person P2 at t2 if and only if P1 and P2 have the same first-person
perspective” (Rudder Baker 2000, 132). According to Rudder Baker,
first-person access toward oneself is immune to referential errors:
“[…] I am never mistaken about who is picked out by my competent
uses of ‘I’” (Rudder Baker 2000, 65). For this reason, sameness of
first-person perspective provides a solid justification of personal
identity over time because it excludes indeterminacy in identity-
statements. Departing from the same first-person perspective there
is always a determinate answer to the question, with which ‘succes-
sor’ of mine I am identical.
To sum up: Both Swinburne and Rudder Baker follow Locke in
their theory of diachronic personal identity and they both rely upon
the error-immunity of self-reference because it excludes the inde-
terminacy of identity in splitting or branching cases. In the following
216 Josef Quitterer
section I introduce a critical argument against Lockean theories of

diachronic personal identity—the problem of interrupted person-
hood.
2. Interrupted personhood
If to a person belong only these stages towards which she has con-
scious access, how could she integrate those live-stages into her per-
sonhood in which she is not conscious at all and has no form of first-
person access towards any mental or physical states? We can as-
sume such non-conscious stages during anaesthesia, during sleep-
less dreaming and during coma. When we start from Locke’s con-
cept of diachronic personal identity, such non-conscious stages can-
not be integrated into the existence of human persons. During these
stages of human existence there is no personal existence.
This would have dramatic consequences for the existence of per-
sons if persons belong to the ontological category of things or sub-
stances. If persons are substances, any interruption in the existence
of a person would be equivalent to the end of her existence. As we
have seen above, Locke denies that persons have the identity-condi-
tions of substances. It seems that he was aware of the problem of
interrupted personhood and that he accepted the counterintuitive
consequences of his own position for diachronic personal identity:
remote person-stages are bound together through memory. The
same consciousness can unite very remote existences into the same
person (Locke Essay, Book 2, Ch. 27, § 23). According to Locke, con-
sciousness can bridge enormous temporal gaps: “[…] if Socrates and
the present mayor of Queenborough agree, they are the same
person” (Locke Essay, Book2, Ch. 27, § 19). Such quotations under-
line that for Locke continuous non-interrupted existence—which is
necessary for substances to exist as the same—is not a necessary re-
quirement for the diachronic existence of persons, because for him
persons are not substances.
Christian philosophers like Rudder Baker and Swinburne,
though, cannot resolve the problem of interrupted personhood by
assuming a scattered personal existence or a multitude of personal

existences. For them, persons are substances: according to Swin-
burne, a person is a “mental substance” (Swinburne 2006); accord-
ing to Rudder Baker, persons are “basic substances” (Rudder Baker
2000, 9). In this case, persons have to meet the identity conditions
of substances. They must have a continuous, non-interrupted exis-
tence. If a person x is a substance S and ceases to exist, x cannot
come into existence again as the same substance S. Moreover, if
‘having a first-person perspective’ (Rudder Baker) or ‘having
privileged access to itself’ (Swinburne) is a necessary condition for a
personal existence, then every moment of personal existence must
be self-referential or self-conscious in some way. Every non-con-
scious period in a person’s life, in which that person is not engaged
in any self-referential activities, would be equivalent to the end of
her existence. After the period of unconsciousness, another person
would come into existence.
At first glance, Christian philosophers like Lynne Rudder Baker
and Richard Swinburne are not affected by Locke’s problem because
they do not limit personhood to self-referential activities which ac-
tually occur. According to Rudder Baker, “what makes a human per-
son a person is the capacity to have a first-person-perspective”
(Rudder Baker 2000, 91). Therefore, periods of non-consciousness
do not affect the existence of a person x as long as x has the capacity
to engage in the self-referential activities of the first-person per-
spective of x. The following quotation makes it clear that it is the
capacity for a first-person perspective which guarantees the survival
of persons in the non-conscious moments of their existence:
An object x has the capacity for a first-person perspective at t if and

only if x has all the structural properties at t required for a first-person
perspective and either (i) x has manifested a first-person perspective at
some time before t or (ii) x is in an environment at t conducive to the
development and maintenance of a first-person perspective. Given this
condition, a person can go into a coma without ceasing to exist, and a
normal newborn human is (i.e. constitutes) a person (Rudder Baker
2000, 92).
218 Josef Quitterer
In a similar way as Rudder Baker, Swinburne seems to avoid the

problem of interrupted personhood by assuming a “capacity for a
mental life”. Since for Swinburne ‘having the capacity for a (per-
sonal) mental life’ is equivalent to ‘having a (personal) mental prop-
erty’, personhood seems to be guaranteed even for these periods in
which human beings are not conscious at all:
A person would not exist unless he had a capacity for a mental life (a
capacity to have sensations, thoughts etc.); and having such a capacity
is itself a mental property (one to the instantiation of which in a
subject he has privileged access). Hence persons are mental substances
[…] (Swinburne 2006, 45).
In these arguments, the extension of the concept ‘person’ is enlar-

ged: Under the concept of ‘person’ can be subsumed not only enti-
ties which actually have a first-person perspective but also entities
which have the capacity for a first-person perspective. In this case,
the basic condition for diachronic personal identity is shifted from
an episode which actually occurs—being actually involved in self-
referential activities—towards a disposition—having the capacity for
self-referential activities. The capacity to have a first-person
perspective guarantees personal identity over time in those periods
of our existence in which there is no self-referential activity—in
dreamless sleep, coma and other non-conscious periods.
For this reason, the statement of Rudder Baker “personal identi-
ty over time is unanalyzable in any more basic terms than sameness
of first-person perspective” (Baker 2000, 138) should to be reformu-
lated in the following way: ‘personal identity over time is unana-
lyzable in any more basic terms than sameness of the capacity to
have a first-person perspective.’ It is the capacity to have a first-per-
son perspective which guarantees the diachronic identity of persons
in these periods in which there is no manifestation of a self-referen-
tial activity. The capacity to have a first-person perspective is more
basic than the (manifest) first-person perspective itself. From this it
can be concluded that it is the self-referential capacity which gua-
rantees diachronic personal identity also in that period of transition
which is assumed by those who believe in immortality and resur-
rection. Rudder Baker’s statement that “the Constitution View is

compatible with the doctrine of resurrection only if it allows that x
and y can have the same first-person perspective” (Rudder Baker
2001) has to be completed in the following way: ‘x and y can have
the same first-person perspective before and after death, if and only
if the same capacity for the first-person perspective remains intact
during the process of post-mortem survival.’
We summarize that Locke’s theory of diachronic personal iden-
tity, which was originally designed to overcome to traditional con-
cept of the soul, fails to reach its goal. A concept of personal identity
that relies exclusively on self-referential activities cannot justify our
basic assumption of diachronic identity. For an adequate philoso-
phical foundation of diachronic personal identity, we need a capac-
ity for a first-person perspective that enables us to assume personal
existence even in stages of non-conscious existence. In the next sec-
tion I argue that the classical Aristotelian concept of the soul could
be regarded as such a capacity. For this reason I would like to con-
clude this paper by a short analysis of the explanatory advantages of
the concept ‘soul’ for the diachronic identity of persons.
3. The Aristotelian (and Thomistic) notion of the soul
Aristotle was facing a similar problem as it is posed to us by con-

temporary philosophy of mind. On the one hand he was acquainted
with Platonic/dualistic conceptions of the soul; on the other hand
prominent natural philosophers were arguing that a soul is a fic-
tion—that all there is can be described in a physicalistic language
with the basic principles of pushing and pulling.
In his book on the soul, Aristotle invokes the least common de-
nominator of different conceptions of the notion ‘soul’: ‘soul’ is the
principle of living beings (Aristotle, 402a 6f.). If ‘soul’ refers to the
essential constituent of a living being, the only possible category for
it is the category of substances; that which is the essential principle
of a living being cannot be accidental. ‘Soul’ refers to ‘substance’ in
the sense of a formal principle. This means the soul is neither the
220 Josef Quitterer
living body as a whole nor the (material) body as such but it is the
substantial principle in virtue of which a body is a living body. The
soul is the form of the human organism as a whole, and, as such
makes it to be the kind of living substance it is (Aristotle, 412a 7ff.).
Aristotle argues against a strict separation of the mental from the
biological. Aristotle’s tripartite distinction of the soul in vegetative,
sensible and rational soul shows clearly that the basic capacities of
nutrition, growth or sense-perception are necessary pre-requisites
for the well-functioning of the rational part. For Aristotle there is
just one subject—the animate organism—which in virtue of its na-
ture is able to do all the things that a living being of a specific kind
typically does. Frede stresses this point in regard to the human in-
tellect:
On Aristotle’s considered view human intellectual intuitions

importantly differ from the other so-called affections of the soul, but
they do not differ from them in such a way as to justify our postulation
of an intellect or a soul as the proper subject of these intuitions or
thoughts (Frede 1992, 106).
In the Aristotelian-Thomistic tradition the soul plays an essential

role for the explanation of mental phenomena. But its explanatory
scope does not end here. Biological phenomena belong to the ex-
planandum of the soul as well. Hence, hylomorphistic accounts
avoid problems coming along with dualism and physical reduction-
ism: dualism tends to deny our embodiedness and animality, where-
as physicalism can hardly account for the value of the self repre-
senting itself.
The decisive point for our problem of interrupted personhood is
that the reality of the soul is classified by Aristotle as a dispositional
and not a categorical form of reality. In De Anima 412a 24f. Aristotle
makes it clear that the soul is actuality “in the first sense, viz. that of
knowledge as possessed […] but not employed […]”. If the soul is the
principle of the identity of an organism, it guarantees identity as a
dispositional and not as a manifest reality. When applied to our
problem of personal identity, the concept of the soul is able to
maintain a notion of personal identity, even if people’s mental ca-
pacities are temporarily out of function. If the identity-conditions of

human persons are not dependent exclusively on a person’s con-
scious life, mental diseases affecting the autobiographical self (like
amnesia and schizophrenia), non-conscious states in coma and even
intermediary states between death and resurrection cannot corrupt
personal identity. We are able to maintain the identity of persons
even throughout times in which their conscious life is interrupted.
Since ‘soul’ aims at giving an account of the connection that exists
between biological and cognitive functions and processes, mental
capacities are to be understood only against the background of the
entire organization underlying the organism.
Now let us turn to one of the major problems which render the
Aristotelian notion of the soul so inaccessible for contemporary ac-
counts of personal identity: at first glance it seems to be impossible
to locate the first-person perspective within the Aristotelian concept
of the soul. One reason for the difficulty to integrate the first-person
perspective or—as Constitutionalists put it—the “ability to conceive
oneself as oneself” (Rudder Baker 2001) in the Aristotelian notion of
the soul, lies in the historic fact that consciousness and self-con-
sciousness are concepts which have been designed mainly in the
philosophy after Descartes. According to Wilkes, the noun ‘con-
sciousness’ does not appear in the English language until 1678, ‘self-
consciousness’ not until 1690 (Wilkes 1993, 171).
But the non-existence of the term ‘self-consciousness’ or ‘self-
awareness’ does not imply that the content of this concept is totally
alien to the Aristotelian approach: whether the first-person per-
spective can be integrated in the Aristotelian concept of the soul
depends also on the way ‘first-person perspective’ is defined. First, it
has to be noted that all perceptual and cognitive activities which
Aristotle mentions in De Anima are self-referential in themselves. In
De Anima III, 2 Aristotle argues that it is one and the same percep-
tual act by which we see the object and perceive that we see the ob-
ject. Otherwise we would fall in a regressus ad infinitum: “[…] it is
through sense that we are aware that we are seeing or hearing it,
[…]” (Aristotle 425b 11). Caston describes this Aristotelian concep-
tion of consciousness in the following way: “Animate things are not
222 Josef Quitterer
only aware of objects in their environment through perception; they

are also aware of undergoing this alteration itself” (Caston 2002,
757). Shivola is even more explicit concerning Aristotle’s theory of
perceptual consciousness:
… his [Aristotle's] main claim is that we see through the very same act
of seeing through which we see ordinary visible objects, so that this act
includes two aspects: (i) the seeing of a visible object, and (ii) the
reflexive consciousness of the act itself. This consciousness is both in-
trinsic, i.e., included in the original perceptual act and higher-order,
i.e., intentional and relational by being reflexively directed to the very
same perceptual act itself (Shivola 2007, 56).
A similar point is made by Aristotle when it comes to the intellect

(430a, 2f.). Here he states that the intellect recognizes itself when it
recognizes an object. We can conclude that reflexive consciousness
can be integrated into Aristotle’s concept of the soul even if the no-
tion of ‘consciousness’ is not yet available.
There is, though, a qualitative difference between Aristotle’s the-
ory of self-awareness and modern conceptions of—for example—
constitutionalists which are based on Descartes’ or Locke’s views of
self-consciousness. In Aristotle, self-reference is primarily the rela-
tion a perception or cognition has towards itself. This does not imply
some form of privileged access the mind has towards its own mental
states. Introspective access would presuppose a second mental or
perceptual act, which has the first one as an object of its own repre-
sentation. This would be denied by Aristotle because it would fall
under the regressus-argument (see Caston 2002). Therefore, self-re-
ferential activities cannot be used—as it is done in Locke’s theory—
as a basis for personal identity. According to Simpson it is not even
required that there is a unity or continuity between them:
From all this it follows that the principle of personal identity is not
identical with acts of self-consciousness, or even with what is immedi-
ately known in acts of self-consciousness. Acts of self-consciousness
are intermittent, but the actuality of the soul is not. [… T]he acts need
not have any further unity among themselves; they could be episodic,
haphazard, or disorganized. Perhaps in extreme cases it might even be
unclear, at least from inside consciousness, if the acts all belong to the
same soul. Self-consciousness might, then, be Humean: a mere bundle
of otherwise independent states. From outside a given individual’s
consciousness, however, there will be no doubt that all the acts belong
to one soul, […] (Simpson 2001, 315).
Intellectual or perceptual activities hang together not due to the sa-

me first-person perspective, but because they derive from the same
principle of all biological and cognitive activities—the soul. It is the
unity of the soul which guarantees that specific perceptual and
cognitive activities are the activities of one and the same subject,
and not the other way round.
At first glance this might appear to be an incompatibility be-
tween the Aristotelian understanding of personal identity and that
of contemporary Christian philosophers like Swinburne and Rudder
Baker. Our analysis given above shows, however, that in a coherent
interpretation of Rudder Baker’s and Swinburne’s views it is not the
manifestation of a self-referential activity which guarantees the dia-
chronic identity of persons. It is rather the ‘capacity for a mental life’
(Swinburne) or the ‘capacity to have a first-person perspective’
(Rudder Baker) which guarantees the numerical identity of per-
sons—especially in those periods of their existence in which they are
not conscious at all. For this reason it is obviously the capacity to
have a first-person perspective which also guarantees personal
identity of our pre- and post-mortem existence.
The Aristotelian notion of the soul can be used for a more com-
prehensive (non-dualistic) understanding of what it means to have a
capacity of a mental life or a capacity for a first-person perspective:
The fact that the rational activities of the soul make us what we most
fundamentally are—persons or rational beings—does not imply that
our identity over time is guaranteed exclusively by means of our
intellectual or self-referential activities. Mental activities like reflec-
tion are a necessary precondition for referring to ourselves as enti-
ties enduring in time, but this does not mean that our endurance in
time is constituted through that reflection. Being identical through
time is prior to our reflection of this identity. It is not, as Locke
would describe it, by referring to ourselves that we constitute our-
224 Josef Quitterer
selves as entities enduring identically in a diachronic sense. The

fundament of consciousness and our identity through time is al-
ready established prior to our self-referential activities in the or-
ganizational structure of our organism. This organizational struc-
ture is stable through our entire life-span and thus, is the basis of an
understanding of living beings as endurants.
The soul as the basic capacity of all cognitive and non-cognitive
activities guarantees personal identity even through the most dra-
matic changes of our life. For Thomas Aquinas this is a sufficient
reason to attribute to the soul a key role in his philosophical justifi-
cation of our personal endurance beyond biological death:
[...] impedire non potest quin homo idem numero resurgere possit.
Nullum enim principiorum essentialium hominis per mortem omnino
cedit in nihilum: nam anima rationalis, quae est hominis forma, manet
post mortem [...] (Thomas Aquinas, Contra Gentiles, lib. 4 cap. 81). 1
According to Thomas Aquinas, the soul guarantees personal identity

and continuity between this life and afterlife. The soul allows for the
assumption of personal identity beyond death, but at the same time
Thomas acknowledges a profound change to the detriment of per-
sonal integrity of the deceased person, as long as the soul has no
associated body. Even if the human soul can endure when its associ-
ated body is destroyed (Thomas Aquinas, Summa theologiae, Ia q.
75, a. 2 and a. 6), Thomas stresses that the soul is not the human
person but only an incomplete remnant of her that lacks most of the
capabilities human persons normally have. Therefore, the soul is not
sufficient to speak of the existence of the whole person, because this
requires a material body as well. Salvation and final joy in heaven
requires the resurrection of the ‘flesh’, because only whole human
beings, not separated souls, can enjoy eternal bliss. For Thomas
1 None of the essential elements in man is altogether annihilated in death.

The rational soul, the 'form' of man, remains after death. [English
translation of Thomas Aquinas by Joseph Rickaby, S.J., Jacques Maritain-
Center]
Aquinas, it is exactly at this point where the Christian belief in the

‘resurrection of the flesh’ gets its philosophical plausibility:
Ad ostendendum etiam resurrectionem carnis futuram evidens ratio

suffragatur, suppositis his quae in superioribus sunt ostensa.
Ostensum est enim in secundo animas hominum immortales esse.
Remanent igitur post corpora a corporibus absolutae. […] Est igitur
contra naturam animae absque corpore esse. Nihil autem quod est
contra naturam, potest esse perpetuum. Non igitur perpetuo erit
anima absque corpore. Cum igitur perpetuo maneat, oportet eam
corpori iterato coniungi: quod est resurgere. Immortalitas igitur
animarum exigere videtur resurrectionem corporum futuram (Thomas
Aquinas, Contra Gentiles, lib. 4 cap. 79 n. 10).2
Bodily resurrection is for Thomas Aquinas not only a matter of reli-

gious belief and a consequence of God’s intervention; it is also the
only way personal existence beyond death can be brought into a
philosophically coherent framework. What does it mean that our
personal existence after death must be in some way a bodily exis-
tence? Rudder Baker rejects the idea that the resurrected body is nu-
merically the same body as the pre-death body. In her arguments for
the non-identity of the two bodies she refers to their essential pro-
perties: the pre-death body is corruptible, the post-death (resur-
rected) body is incorruptible, and therefore the two bodies cannot be
numerically the same (Rudder Baker 2001). Rudder Baker’s view,
though, is in direct contradiction to Thomas Aquinas’ doctrine. Ac-
cording to Thomas Aquinas, radical transformation of the earthly
into a heavenly body does not exclude the numerical identity of the
post-death with the pre-death body. In his argument, Aquinas refers
to the common sense intuition that in everyday life we assume that
2 Reason too gives evident support to the resurrection of the flesh. -- 1. The
souls of men are immortal (B. II, Chap. LXXIX). But the soul is naturally
united with the body, being essentially the form of the body (B. II, Chap.
LVII). Therefore it is against the nature of the soul to be without the body.
But nothing that is against nature can be lasting. Therefore the soul will not
be for ever without the body. Thus the immortality of the soul seems to
require the resurrection of the body
226 Josef Quitterer
our body remains numerically the same body even if it undergoes

dramatic changes:
Quod enim non impedit unitatem secundum numerum in homine dum

continue vivit, manifestum est quod non potest impedire unitatem
resurgentis. In corpore autem hominis, quandiu vivit, non semper sunt
eaedem partes secundum materiam, sed solum secundum speciem;
secundum vero materiam partes fluunt et refluunt: nec propter hoc
impeditur quin homo sit unus numero a principio vitae usque in finem.
Cuius exemplum accipi potest ex igne, qui, dum continue ardet, unus
numero dicitur, propter hoc quod species eius manet, licet ligna
consumantur et de novo apponantur. Sic etiam est in humano corpore
(Thomas Aquinas, Contra Gentiles, lib. 4 cap. 81).3
The human soul as the basic capacity of living activities guarantees

the numerical identity of the resurrected body with the pre-death
body. The soul as forma substantialis not only shapes the living or-
ganism; it is also the form of the resurrected body. The role of the
soul is not only to be a ‘placeholder for the person’ (Rudder Baker
2001). The soul also sets constraints for the body that can be my
transformed body. Not any body can be the body of the person I am.
There is a minimal requirement that bodies (pre- and post-mortem)
must meet in order to be my body - they must be informed by the
same basic capacity, which is my soul.
4. Résumé
Christian philosophers, like Swinburne and Rudder Baker, are skep-

tical concerning the Aristotelian notion of the soul as a principle for
3 What does not bar numerical unity in a man while he lives on

uninterruptedly, clearly can be no bar to the identity of the risen man with
the man that was. In a man's body while he lives, there are not always the
same parts in respect of matter, but only in respect of species. In respect of
matter there is a flux and reflux of parts: still that fact does not bar the
man's numerical unity from the beginning to the end of his life. We have an
example in a fire, which, while it goes on burning, is called numerically one,
because its species remains, though the wood is burnt out and fresh wood
supplied. So it is in the human body:
the justification of the diachronic identity of human person; instead

of this they prefer Locke’s theory of personal identity. Their
preference is based upon a more general suspicion according to
which the Aristotelian notion of the soul cannot take into account
the importance of the first-person perspective for the question of
survival and personal identity over time. Our analysis of Swin-
burne’s and Rudder Baker’s views shows that the first-person per-
spective alone cannot guarantee diachronic identity; especially in
periods of loss of consciousness and dramatic personality changes;
and in a comprehensive philosophical justification of post-mortem
survival, the capacity to have a first-person perspective demonstra-
tes itself to be more basic than self-referential activities. I concluded
my paper with the proposal to interpret the ‘capacity to have a first-
person perspective’ or the ‘capacity for mental states’ in an Aristo-
telian way—as being part of a comprehensive dispositional principle
which is called ‘soul’. The concept of the soul is the principle that
guarantees diachronic personal identity in dramatic personality
changes and it can be used successfully for a philosophical justifi-
cation of post-mortem survival.
References
Aristotle De Anima, in W.D. Ross (ed.) The Works of Aristotle—

Volume III, Oxford: Clarendon Press.
Caston, V. (2002) “Aristotle on Consciousness”, Mind 111, 751-815.
Frede, M. (1994) “Aristotle’s Notion of Potentiality in Metaphysics
Θ”, in T. Scaltas, D. Charles & M. Gill (eds.), Unity, Identity and
Explanation in Aristotle’s Metaphysics, Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 173-193.
Locke, J., ‘Essay’: Essay Concerning Human Understanding, BookII.
Rudder Baker, L. (2000) Persons and Bodies—A Constitution View,
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Rudder Baker, L. (2001) “Material Persons and the Doctrine of
Resurrection”, Faith and Philosophy 18, 151-167.
228 Josef Quitterer
Shivola, J. (2007) “The Problem of Consciousness in Aristotle’s

Philosophy”, in S. Heinämaa, V. Lähteenmäki & P. Remes (eds.),
Consciousness: From Perception to Reflection in the History of
Philosophy, Dordrecht: Springer, 49-66.
Simpson, P. (2001) “Aristotle’s Idea of the Self”, The Journal of Va-
lue Inquiry 35, 309-324.
Swinburne, R. (1997) The Evolution of the Soul. Revised Edition,
Oxford: Clarendon Press.
Swinburne, R. (2006) “Wodurch ich ich bin—Eine Verteidigung des
Substanzdualismus”, in B. Niederbacher & E. Runggaldier (eds.),
Die menschliche Seele. Brauchen wir den Dualismus?, Frankfurt
a. M.: Ontos, 41-49.
Thomas Aquinas, Opera Omnia.
Wilkes, K. V. (1993) Real People—Personal Identity without
Thought Experiments, Oxford: Clarendon Press.
grant P201860-G14.
The Soul-Body Problem in Islamic
Philosophical Psychology
A. A. Shameli, Qom
1. Introduction
In this paper, I will partly compare the approaches and ideas of two
pioneers in Islamic philosophy to the soul-body problem: Ibn Sina
(370-428/980-1037) and Mulla Sadra (975-1050/1571-1640). Inve-
stigating the issue of the soul-body problem in the works of these
two philosophers, we need firstly to gain a general perspective of
their respective approaches to psychology. Such a perspective
should help us to arrive at a more precise understanding of what
each has contributed in this area and their differences. Although
psychology occupied a vital role in Ibn Sina’s school of philosophy
and his theories in this regard were of great importance in the his-
tory of Islamic thought, some major differences nevertheless sepa-
rate his psychological doctrines from those of Mulla Sadra. These
differences are significant even if we admit that Ibn Sina’s writings
were not merely an imitation of the Aristotelian tradition. His ideas,
indeed, provided the ground for the later developments of the Ira-
nian mystical philosophy or gnosis (‘irfān). This transformation of
Islamic philosophy (falsafah) is rooted in the philosophical investi-
gation of the soul, or perhaps in the implications that psychological
doctrines have yielded for all areas of philosophical inquiry (see Hall
1979, 46-47).
2. The Psychologies of Ibn Sina and Mulla Sadra
Ibn Sina and Mulla Sadra differ from one another in the way that
each established his own type of school of philosophical psychology.
While Ibn Sina, following Aristotle, considered the science of the
soul (‘ilm al-nafs) as a part of natural philosophy, Mulla Sadra
230 A.A. Shameli
placed it under metaphysics, complementary to the science of the

origins of the things. This specific metaphysical world-view led him
to view the universe as an ordered whole. In this unified world-view,
he considered everything in terms of its metaphysical origin. This
might be also why he never reduced the human soul to a collection
of mental states or mental processes, as some modern psychologists
have done. Instead, he traces the metaphysical roots of everything,
establishing a doctrine in terms of which he investigates metaphysi-
cal characteristics such as creation, immateriality and immortality.
Although Mulla Sadra put forth this new formulation by emphasiz-
ing the physical origin of the soul, which would seem to be a topic
more properly discussed in natural philosophy, this position was
due to the fact that our philosopher believed that ‘ilm al-nafs is, in
fact, a preliminary step toward knowing God and being aware of
what will happen in the other world. These goals would be achiev-
able if we considered the soul as a being that survives and leads us
to God both in its origination (ḥudūth) and its survival (baqā’).
In some of his writings, Ibn Sina uses the term “soul” (nafs) to
refer not to the substance of the soul as such, but to the soul as it
relates to the body and governs it. Considering it as something that
bears a relationship to matter and, consequently, to movement, he
takes the body to be an element in the soul’s definition and says,
following Aristotle, that the soul is the form or the first perfection of
the body. In this sense, therefore, the most appropriate place for
discussing the soul is natural philosophy. Nevertheless, in another
attempt he states that although the soul is the form or the first per-
fection of the natural body, it is an incorporeal substance that ema-
nates from the world of intellects.
Rejecting Ibn Sina’s apparent self-contradiction and modifying
the Aristotelian definition of the soul as well, Mulla Sadra states that
when the soul comes into existence, it is nothing other than some-
thing that relates to the body and will only change substantially
through substantial motion. At the same time, Sadra also mentions
that the soul’s related mode of existence at its early stage does not
imply Ibn Sina’s idea that the soul is a rational concept and not a
substantive one. So, there will not be any unknown substance for the
The Soul-Body Problem in Islamic Philosophical Psychology 231
soul separated from its relation to the body at its early existence.
However, he insists that no one is able to discover the soul’s essence
(dhāt); all we can describe, in fact, are various facts about its facul-
ties and the lower mental and intellectual levels (quwā wa
manāzilihā al-nafsiyyah wa al-‘aqliyyah).
Mulla Sadra also departs from Ibn Sina on some other psycho-
logical points, such as the eternity and createdness of the soul, the
immateriality (tajarrud) of the imaginative power, and the effective
role of the soul in relation to its faculties, through which it exists in
all its uniqueness (al-nafs fī waḥdatihā kull al-quwā). It is necessary
to mention that even though Mulla Sadra’s psychology covers a vast
terrain, including the vegetative and animal souls, we have limited
ourselves in this study to the case of the human soul.
3. Terminological Differences
Speaking of the soul and the mind, philosophers have traditionally

proposed two basic orientations. Some believe that mind and soul
are the same, others that mind is a part of the soul. A third group
proposes that the mind and the soul are entirely different and what,
in fact, exists is mind characterized by intellect and will. While phi-
losophers have insisted on the existence of the soul as something
that can survive independently after the death of the body or, better
to say, can survive without a corporeal body, modern defenders of
the notion of the mind maintain the existence of the mind as some-
thing that is not immortal, but characterized by intellect and will
(see Teichman 1974, 1-2; Kenny 1989, 18). According to Anthony
Kenny, the human mind is primarily the capacity to acquire intel-
lectual abilities. Therefore, it is a capacity, not an activity. Such phi-
losophers argue that babies have minds even though they have not
yet exhibited intellectual activities, insofar as infants possess a basic
ability to acquire new abilities (see Kenny 1989, 20).
Beyond these views, some have gone further to state that no sat-
isfactory account of our concept of the mind can be really offered. As
232 A.A. Shameli
Schaffer explains:
The only thing that we know of each person is a series of mental

changes, mental states, and mental processes. Because of the inability
to say what a mind is, many philosophers prefer to speak not of minds
as such, but simply of mental properties or mental events (Schaffer
1967, 338).
Many modern psychologists have taken this line of thinking as the

very basis of their field. Muslim philosophers, on the other hand,
have stated that no one can obtain or know the exact nature of rūḥ
(spirit) even if one is sure that there is, indeed, such a thing as rūḥ
(see Fārūqī al-Tihānawī 1966, Vol. 3-4, 18).
According to D.B. Macdonald (1931, 307), rūḥ in Arabic is a pri-
mary noun that has become broadly equivalent in meaning to the
Latin spiritus, or “breath”, “wind”, “spirit”. From one end, it may
even be related back to the most primitive folklore and, from the
other end, it is closely linked to the entire history of philosophy, as
in the use of the word “spirit” in Islamic philosophy. In the course of
its journey between these two extremes, the meaning of the term has
been alternatively used throughout theology and philosophy, in uses
that range from the metaphysical to the superstitious.
In the purely philosophical tradition, soul or nafs is sometimes
considered as a form (ṣūrah) or perfection (kamāl) or power
(quwwah), implying the principle of affections and acts (mabda‘ al-
āthār wa al-af‘āl). All these terms depend on certain considerations.
If we regard it as the source of actions and effects in relation to the
body, the soul is called quwwa (faculty or power). It should be no-
ticed that quwwah has different meanings in philosophical texts, but
is used in the above-mentioned discussion referring to the soul as
the source or basis of effects and the actions. However, it could be
the form of matter that carries it or something which completes
matter and causes it to be actualized (see Mulla Sadra, Asfār, Vol. 8,
7-9).
Switching to the technical meaning of the soul according to Ibn
Sina’s school of thought, let us first present his point of view on the
soul’s definition. Sometimes (Ibn Sina, al-Najāt, Vol. 2, 196) it
seems that Ibn Sina simply accepts the Aristotelian definition in De

Anima (412a) of the soul as first entelechy, and insists on the intel-
lectual aspects such as thinking, inference, and the perception of
universals. He considers the soul as the first perfection (kamālun
awwal) of the natural body. However, he departs from Aristotle
when he emphasizes the difference between perfection and form.
Perfection according to Aristotle is equal to form, which cannot
stand by itself, while Ibn Sina believes that perfection and form are
not interchangeable. Each form is equal to a perfection; but not
every perfection is a form. Ibn Sina uses Aristotle’s metaphor of the
ship’s captain (De Anima, 413a) to explain the difference, and agrees
that the captain is a kind of perfection for the ship, but is not its
form. In the case of the soul, too, Ibn Sina holds that a transcendent
perfection (kamālun mufāriq) is neither the form of matter nor is it
located in it (see Ibn Sina, Shifā, Vol. 2, 7).
On closer examination, one may note a certain inconsistency in
Ibn Sina words. On the one hand, he states that the soul is the first
perfection of the body, which necessitates admitting the idea that it
is a form. For, “first perfection” is something that causes matter to
be actualized. Therefore, its relation to the body cannot resemble
that of a captain to a ship, since the ship and its captain are two in-
dependent existents. No one considers the captain as the “first per-
fection” of the ship. On the other hand, he considers the soul as a
transcendent perfection (kamālun mufāriq), which is in fact the final
not the first perfection of the body. This excludes the proposed defi-
nition.
Ibn Sina sometimes defines the soul by referring to its functions.
In the Shifā’ (cited above), he introduces the human soul as the
source of nutrition, growth, sensation, motion, and intellection
(maṣdar al-ghadhā’, al-numuww, al-iḥsās, al-ḥarakah, wa al-
ta‘aqqul). These two said definitions derive from Aristotle’s De
Anima (412a). Elsewhere, however, Ibn Sina (Risālah fī al-Ḥudd,
69-70) tries to combine Aristotle’s position on one hand, and Plato’s
on the other hand. He states accordingly that although the soul is
the form or the first perfection of the natural body, it is an
incorporeal substance that emanates from the world of intellects.
234 A.A. Shameli
Though Mulla Sadra quotes passages in his Asfār (Vol. 8, 9-10)

indicating that according to the philosophers, the soul is nothing
other than that which is related to the body and functions as a
source of intellectual acts and universal perceptions, in his Mafātīḥ
(514) he states that all definitions of the soul that are presented by
the philosophers as being essential definitions are, in fact, nominal
definitions (ḥadd bi ḥasab-i al-’ism) because the soul is in its reality
one of God’s immaterial lights (nūrun min anwār al-Allāh al-
ma‘nawiyyah). In order to remove this ambiguity, Mulla Sadra
(Mafātīḥ, 310) declares that the human soul has a unique existence
that is continuously in essential motion and does not have any static
essence or particular stage of existence. Consequently, it would be
very hard to perceive its essence as it is. What we say about the soul
can only indicate the levels of its existence in relation to the body
and refer to its accidents of perception and motion (‘awāriḍ al-
idrākiyyah wa al-taḥrkiyyah). Therefore, philosophers usually define
the soul as the first perfection (kamālun awwal) of the body. This
definition simply reflects a kind of relation (iḍāfah) existing between
the soul and the body, whereas the soul is indeed a substance
(jawhar). It is like when we define a builder (bannā’) as a person
who constructs buildings, which defines him as a builder not qua
human being (see Mulla Sadra, al-Mabda’ wa al-Ma‘ād, 232-233).
One may note a kind of contradiction between this account and
what he offers in his Asfār (Vol. 8, 11-12) that clearly shows that
Mulla Sadra considers the soul at its very early existence as some-
thing relating to the body without having any other transcendent
essence. In an attempt to define nafs (soul), Mulla Sadra asserts that
each active power (quwwah fā‘iliyyah) capable of causing different
effects is called nafs. This definition refers to the soul as an active
power or powers. The soul’s simple essence (dhātihā al-basīţah), on
the other hand, has another definition that, he admits, cannot be
dealt with in natural science.
In Mulla Sadra writings, it is difficult to discern any explicit dis-
tinction between nafs and rūḥ. Although he often uses the word nafs
to refer to that which is related to the body, he also sometimes uses
rūḥ as an alternative. In his ‘Arshiyyah (235), he uses rūḥ to refer to
something he calls nafs in other works, yet in the very same passage,
he also uses rūh for the highest stage of the soul’s development
(while in Mulla Sadra, Tafsīr, Vol. 7, 58, he uses nafs and rūḥ inter-
changeably). The Distinction is perhaps clearer when Mulla Sadra
adds modifiers to the term rūḥ. He distinguishes between vaporous
spirit (al-rūḥ al-bukhāri) and immaterial spirit (al-rūḥ al-mujarrad)
in his writings. The vaporous spirit, according to him, is a subtle, hot
body (jism ḥārr laţīf) that is made up of four humors (akhlāṭ
arba‘ah), carries perceptual powers, and circulates through the bo-
dy. The immaterial spirit, on the other hand, has an incorporeal exi-
stence that can only be known by perfect men through the intuition
(bi nūrin ashraf min al-‘aql). The vaporous spirit could be investi-
gated in natural science through experiment and deduction with a
view to maintaining the body’s health. The immaterial spirit must be
known through intuition on the way to knowing God (see Mulla
Sadra, al-Mabda’ wa al-Ma‘ād, 250-254).
There is one case in which Mulla Sadra maintains that rūḥ and
nafs are two levels of the soul. Comparing the soul’s levels to what is
found in the Qur’ān, Mulla Sadra enumerates seven degrees of exis-
tence for the soul. These degrees are the following: nature (ţabī‘ah),
soul (nafs), intellect (‘aql), spirit (rūḥ), secret (sirr), hidden secret
(khafī), and the most hidden state (akhfā), which is that of perfect
union with God (see Mulla Sadra, Tafsīr, Vol. 7, 23). In this regard it
is interesting to note that Seyyed Hossein Nasr (1966, 955-956). has
pointed out that according to a famous hadîth of the Prophet Mu-
hammad, accepted by Shi‘ites and Sunnis alike, the Qur’ān has se-
ven levels of meaning the last known only to God. According to this
point of view, nafs and rūḥ are not two independent things, but rat-
her two levels of one reality that unfolds through substantial motion.
As we noticed one can hardly arrive at a clear understanding of
the terms. The whole terminological ambiguity is, of course, related
to the history of these terms. There are at least four different layers
to be distinguished, and each has its own ambiguity:
a) Qur’ānic application (nafs, rūḥ with very different meanings
according to various contexts).
b) Mystical usage (basically as in the Qur’ān).
236 A.A. Shameli
c) Medical meanings (rūḥ may be used as referring to blood, life,

etc.).
d) Philosophical notion (rūḥ means psyche, particularly rational
soul (al-nafs al-nāţiqah).
4. Conclusion
Mulla Sadra succeeded in satisfactorily resolving the age-old meta-

physical dilemma concerning the connection of the immaterial with
the material and by extension the relation of the immaterial soul to
the material body. He achieved this by articulating a monistic de-
scription of reality that allowed for a hierarchical and continuous
gradation, and by postulating a level of existence, known as the ima-
ginal realm, which lay between the lowest level of detached immate-
riality and the level of materiality. In this way, he eliminated the
dual-substance conception of reality altogether, while at the same
time conceding that detached immateriality and materiality (or in
the case of the human being, the intellect and the body) could not be
directly in contact, for their existential ranks did not allow for this;
rather, they needed an intermediate level of existence, weaker than
the realm of detached immateriality and stronger than that of ma-
teriality, to connect the two.
References
Aristotle (1955) De Anima, tr. J. A. Smith, ed. D. Ross, London: Ox-

ford University Press.
Bahmanyār, K. (1349/1970) Al-Taḥṣīl, ed. M. Muṭahharī, Tehran.
Fārūqī al-Tihānawī, Muhammad A‘lā Ibn ‘Alī (1966) Iṣtilāḥāt al-Funn,
Beirut: al-Maktabah al-Islamiyyah.
Hall, R. E. (1979) “Some Relationships between Ibn Sina’s Psy-
chology, Other branches of His Thought, and Islamic teachings,”
Journal for the History of Arabic Science, Aleppo: University of
Aleppo, Vol. 3, 46-84.
Ibn Sina (1375/1996) Al-Shifā’, Kitāb al-Nafs (Book of the Soul)

Ibn Sina (1992) Al-Ishārāt wa al-Tanbīhāt, 4 Vols., Beirut:
Mu’assassah al-Nu‘mān.
Ibn Sina (1992) Al-Najāt, ed. Abd al-Raḥmān Umayarah, Beirut:
Dār al-Jayl.
Ibn Sina, (1986) “Risālah fī al-Ḥudd,” in Tis‘ Rasā’il fī al-Ḥikmat wa
al-Ţabī‘iyyāt, ed. Ḥasan ‘Āsī, Beirut: Dār Qābis.
Ibn Sina (1984) Al-Mabda’ wa al-ma‘ād, ed. A. Nurani, Tehran:
McGill Institute of Islamic Studies and Tehran University.
Kenny, A. (1989) The Metaphysics of Mind, Oxford: Oxford Univer-
sity Press.
Macdonald, D. B. (1931) “The Development of the Idea of Spirit in
Islam,” Acta Orientalia, Vol. 9, No. 4, 307-351.
Mulla Sadra (1984) Mafātīḥ al-Ghayb, with commentary by Mullā
Ali Nūrī, ed. M. Khāwjawī, Tehran: Mawlā.
Mulla Sadra (1982) Tafsīr al-Qur’ān al-Karīm, ed. M. Khwājavī,
Qom: Intishārāt-e Bīdār.
Mulla Sadra (1981) Al-Asfār, Vols. 6, 7, 8 & 9, Beirut: Dār al-Ihyā’ al-
Turāth al-‘Arabī.
Mulla Sadra (1976) al-Mabda’ wa al-Ma‘ād, ed. Sayyid Jalāl al-Dīn
Āshtīyānī, Tehran: Anjuman-e Ḥikmat va Falsafeh.
Mulla Sadra (1341/1962) ‘Arshiyyah, ed. Ghulām Ḥusayn Āhanī,
Isfahan: Shahriyār.
Nasr, Seyyed Hossein (1966) “Sadr a-Din Shirazi (Mulla Sadra),” A
History of Muslim Philosophy, ed. M. M. Sharif, Karachi, Vol. 2,
932-960.
Schaffer, J. (1967) “Mind-Body Problem,” Encyclopedia of Philo-
sophy, ed. Paul Edwards, New York: Macmillan, Vol. 5, 338-339.
Teichman, J. (1974) The Mind and the Soul, London: Routledge and
Kegan Paul.
The Creation of the Human Soul:
An Islamic Perspective
Mohammad Ali Shomali, Qom
1. Introduction
One of the issues that have been extensively discussed among those
philosophers who have accepted the existence of human soul as a
substance, independent from human body in its essence, is the issue
of the beginning of human soul. This by itself can be divided into
two subsequent questions: whether the soul is created or not and, if
we accept that it is created, whether the soul is created in eternity or
it has some beginning. This paper studies briefly major viewpoints
among Muslim philosophers and theologians with respect to the
latter. (On different types of substance, definition of psychic
substance or soul, its types, immateriality, faculties and happiness,
see Shomali 2007.)
2. Major views about the beginning of the soul
There are three major views about the beginning of the soul among
those philosophers who have accepted the existence of the soul as an
immaterial being that is essentially different from and indeed in-
dependent of the body (see Sabzavari’s enumeration of views on the
soul’s being eternal (qidam) or originated (ḥudūth) in Mulla Sadra
1981b, ishrāq vi, shādid ii, mashhad iii). To believe that soul is not
created and, therefore, to accord some type of divinity or necessity
of existence to it is not normally taken seriously by Muslim philoso-
phers or the classical Greek philosophers, though they sometimes
make note of it (for example, Ibn Sina mentions an extreme view
240 Mohammad Ali Shomali
according to which the soul is equal to God). Thus, the major views
are as follows:
a. the soul is created in pre-eternity;

b. the soul is created at a certain time prior to the creation of
body;
c. the soul is created at the same time as the creation of the body
or, more precisely, at a certain stage in the development of the
human embryo.
As an example for those who hold the first view, one may refer to
Plato. Plato was of the opinion that the human soul is eternal in the
sense that it has no beginning. According to Plato, the human soul
has always been (in a higher universe; the universe of the imamteri-
al forms or ideas), but after the creation of the human body, the soul
is individuated and each soul belongs to its corresponding body.
There seems to be some sympathy with Plato from some Muslim
scholars of ḥadīth and kalām who believe that human souls or spi-
rits are created by God before the creation of the material world, and
therefore, that they are beyond time or timeless. Of course, they do
not agree with Plato, as normally understood, in his belief that the
eternal soul is universal. With respect to Muslim philosophers, it
seems clear that they reject the Platonic idea of the eternity of soul.
It has to be noted that Mulla Sadra tries to defend Plato by inter-
preting his idea in a different way. Mulla Sadra writes:
The attribution to that great person [Plato] and his likes from the early
great people of the view that the souls, in so far as they are souls, are
eternal is a fabricated lie. How [is this possible] when they have
believed in the the universe was originated (ḥudūth) and in the
renewal and change of the nature and destruction of all bodies? […] If
he means that the souls have an intellectual configuration prior to the
configuration of their association [with the body] (al-nash’at al-
ta‘alluqiyyah), this does not imply the eternity of the souls in so far
they are souls (Mulla Sadra 1981, Vol. 8, 374).
Mulla Sadra maintains that Plato did not mean that souls as such or
independently existed in eternity; rather Plato must have meant that
the intellectual image of the souls existed in eternity or that they
existed in eternity by the existence of their eternal originator. Whe-
ther Plato would have agreed to what Sadra suggests requires inve-
stigation; however, the idea, regardless of its attribution to Plato,
seems to be quite plausible and in addition to philosophical argu-
ments, can be supported by reference to the Qur’ān. The Qur’ān
says: There is not a thing but that its sources are with Us, and We
do not send it down except in a known measure. (15:21)
Therefore, everything in this material world exists somehow in
the Kingdom of God. This idea is also well echoed in the mystical
literature. For example, Rumi says:
We were simple and one substance, all;

We had no sides on the other side, all.
We were one substance, just like the sun that glows;
We had no knots and were clear, just like water that flows.
When it took on form, that pure light of all,
It became many, like shadows from a battlement fall.
Destroy the battlement! Let loose the catapult!
Until the differences are culled from all of our cult
(Mathnavi, Bk. I, 686-689).
Muslim philosophers prior to Mulla Sadra believed, like Aristotle,

that the human soul is immaterial at its beginning (ḥudūth), just as
it is immaterial in its survival (baqā’), because there can be no chan-
ge in the essence of the soul. This is unlike the soul’s actions, which
depend in the beginning on the body and later become independent
from the body. This idea, that the soul is immaterial in its origin and
in its survival is formulated in the Arabic phrase: rūḥāniyyah al-
ḥudūth wa rūḥāniyyah al-baqā’ (spiritual in origin and spiritual in
survival). (For the Muslim Peripatetic school, see e.g. Ibn Sina, Al-
Shifā’, Section VI: Al-Nafs (the Soul). For the Illuminationist school,
see e.g. Sohravardi, Ḥikmat al-Ishrāq, Vol. 2, 202 and 203.)
Mulla Sadra believes that the classic view cannot properly
explain the essential connection between the soul and body, since
they come into existence independently. Mulla Sadra is the first on
record to suggest that the person is material at the beginning and

then becomes immaterial. Sadra’s idea can be formulated as:
jismāniyyah al-ḥudūth wa rūḥāniyyah al-baqā’ (corporeal in origin
and spiritual in survival), (see Mulla Sadra, Al-Asfār, Vol. 6, 109 and
Vol. 8, 333 and 334).
The key point for understanding Mulla Sadra’s argument for this
new standpoint is his other innovative idea, i.e. the idea of substan-
tial motion. Mulla Sadra argues that through substantial motion (al-
ḥarakat al-jawhariyyah), the human body undergoes evolutionary
change in its essence which results in the production of soul. In ot-
her words, the soul is nothing other than a fruit of the development
of the body. The clearest explanation of Mulla Sadra’s view about
this point, I think, can be found in the following passage:
According to Sadra, this reality, which is today a spirit, a thought, an

idea, an intellect, and an intelligible, was another day some bread, later
some blood, then clot, then a lump of flesh […] (Mutahhari 1366/1987,
170).
Elsewhere, with less clarity but with further details, Ayatullah Mu-
tahhari says:
Initially, for example, the human embryo is purely physical in its

nature. It is 100% a physical compound like any ordinary nature in this
world, but gradually the form and substantial matter of that nature
develops and, thus, the soul gradually comes about out of this bodily
nature which serves as a matter for soul and evolves. This means that
the soul at this level, which is its first level, is the form for the physical
body, but then it becomes a matter for higher levels of the soul. When
body becomes soul […] it is not the case that there are two distinct
things: one merely material being and another immaterial being;
rather there is only one connected reality and, in a sense, the material
and the immaterial are mixed with each other. This means that dif-
ferent levels (marātib) of the same thing gradually turn from being
material into being immaterial. This is like a green object that
gradually becomes yellow; no border lines can be drawn between its
yellowness and greenness. […] The nature that initially serves as
matter for the soul finally becomes like an accident for the soul, like
skin cells, which are part of the body, but when they die, they become
like dirt, additional to body (Mutahhari 1369/1990, 66-67).
Mulla Sadra believes that his philosophical arguments are supported

by the verses of the Qur’ān and mystical findings. For example, the
Qur’ān says: And certainly We created man of an extract of clay.
Then We made him a drop of [seminal] fluid [lodged] in a secure
abode. Then We created the drop of fluid as a clinging mass. Then
We created the clinging mass as a fleshy tissue. Then We created the
fleshy tissue as bones. Then We clothed the bones with flesh. Then
We caused it to grow into another creation. So blessed be God, the
best of creators. (23:12-14)
Mulla Sadra is well aware of the objections that can be made
against him, based on some religious texts (mainly hadiths) which
imply or indicate apparently the creation of the soul in eternity or at
least long time before the creation of body. For example, Mulla Sad-
ra refers to a hadith from the Prophet Muḥammad: “I was a prophet
when Adam was between water and clay” (Majlisī, Biḥār, Vol. 65, 27
and Vol. 101, 155). He also refers to the following hadith from the
Prophet Muḥammad: “The spirits are [like] armies that have lined
up. Those who are familiar with each other come together and those
who are not separate [disagree with] from one another” (Majlisī,
Biḥār, Vol. 58, 63). There is also another version of this hadith
preceded by the following phrase: “Verily God the Almighty created
the spirits two thousand years before the bodies” (Majlisī, Biḥār,
Vol. 58, 138).
Mulla Sadra answers objections based on such religious texts,
partly, by interpreting these texts in a way similar to the way he in-
terprets the Platonic ideas, that is, he holds that reference here is to
the intellectual image of the souls that has existed since eternity, or
that they may be said to have existed in eternity by virtue of the
existence of their eternal originator (see Mulla Sadra, Al-Asfār, Vol.
8, Section 7, Chapter 2).
In his commentary (Miṣbāḥ Yazdī 1380/2001) on the relevant
parts of the Asfār, Ayatullah Miṣbāḥ expresses dissatisfaction with
Sadra’s interpretation of some hadiths and suggests another solu-
tion based on the following points:
• the soul from the beginning is immaterial;

• the immaterial is beyond time and admits no time;

• the soul has transtemporal priority (al-sabq bi al-dahr) over
body, which is the priority of a necessitating cause over its
effect and the priority of the non-material intellectual world
over the world of matter;
• after the fulfillment of some required conditions by the body,
at a certain time the body comes to belong to the soul.
Ayatullah Miṣbāḥ concludes that the hadiths that indicate creation

of the soul before the body mean precedence in rank and not in
time. Even with respect to the hadith which mentions that spirits are
created 2000 years before bodies, he maintains that year cannot
mean time in the normal sense that we understand. 2000 years may
refer to two levels of precedence: the precedence of the intellectual
universe over the imaginal (mithāalī) universe, and the precedence
of the imaginal universe over the physical universe, since there are
cases in the Qur’ān where day is used in the sense of stage, like the
creation of heavens and the earth in six days (10:3; 11:7; 25:59; etc.).
On the other hand, the Qur’ān says: […]Indeed a day with your
Lord is like a thousand years of your reckoning. (22:47)
Admitting the fact that there are some hadiths and even verses of
the Qur’ān that may apparently imply the creation of the soul before
body, I personally believe that there are many more verses of the
Qur’ān and hdiths that in a much stronger way suggest the creation
of the soul at a certain stage of the development of embryo. Indeed,
these verses and hadiths (with or without philosophical arguments)
enable us to understand what is really meant by the other set.
Let us start with the Qur’ān. There are many verses of the Qur’ān
about the creation of man. In my view these verses clearly suggest
that the creation of the soul cannot be before the creation of the bo-
dy. In addition to the verse (23:12-14) above, one may refer e.g. to
the following: O mankind! if you are in doubt concerning the
Resurrection, then surely We have created you from dust, then from
a drop of [seminal] fluid […]. (22:5); Among His signs in this, that
He created you from dust; and then—behold, ye are men scattered
(far and wide)! (30:20). Perhaps some of the most clear and
striking verses are the following: […] commenced man’s creation

from clay. Then He made his progeny from an extract of a base fluid.
Then He proportioned him and breathed into him of His Spirit, and
made for you the hearing, the sight, and the hearts. Little do you
thank. (32:7-9). This verse expressly signifies that the creation of
Adam started from clay, so Adam was not a product of an evolutio-
nary process and had no parents. This is exactly what we find in the
following verse: Indeed the case of Jesus with God is like the case
of Adam: He created him from dust, then said to him, ‘Be,’ and he
was. (3:59). This is followed by a description of the progeny of
Adam (and Eve) and says that they were created from an extract of a
base fluid. The breathing of His Spirit into Adam and his progeny
comes second. There are also many hadiths about the creation of
man confirming the same idea. Indeed, based on the hadiths, the
Shi‘ite jurists normally have the idea that the spirit-breathing stage
is about one hundred twenty days after conception starts.
One verse that is often taken by those who insist on the creation
of the soul before body is the following: When your Lord took from
the Children of Adam, from their loins, their descendants and made
them bear witness over themselves, [He said to them,] ‘Am I not
your Lord?’ They said, ‘Yes indeed! We bear witness.’ [This,] lest you
should say on the Day of Resurrection, ‘Indeed we were unaware of
this,’ (7:172). This verse is taken to refer to a kind of individual exi-
stence prior to this world. There are also some hadiths whose appa-
rent meanings endorse such an understanding. However, I think ex-
pressions like “the Children of Adam”, “from their loins” and “their
descendents” are not in conformity with this kind of interpretation
according to which the souls precede their bodies in time. Of course,
this problem, along with the idea of the Universe of the Particles
(‘ālam-e dharr) needs to be discussed separately.
With respect to the above Prophetic hadith: “I was a prophet
when Adam was between water and clay,” I think by now it must ha-
ve become clear that this does not mean that the souls of Adam and
the Prophet Muḥammad were created and then the Prophet Mu-
ḥammad was appointed as a prophet by God while the body of
Adam had not been created, let alone the body of the Prophet Mu-
ḥammad. As we saw above, the creation of Adam’s soul or any other

person’s soul comes only after the creation of body. In addition to
the above verse, one may refer to this verse as well, in which God
commands the angels to bow before Adam: So when I have pro-
portioned him and breathed into him of My spirit, then fall down in
prostration before him (15:29).
I think verses like this clearly suggest that the creation of Adam
was completed (that is, his soul was created) only after his body was
proportioned. If Adam’s soul was created before his body, the angels
should have been asked to prostrate before Adam before the body
was created, for the reality and value of every person depends on his
soul [spirit] and not on body. In my view, the expression “between
water and clay” clearly suggests that this hadith refers to this world;
otherwise there would be no point in comparing the appointment of
the Prophet as a spirit in eternity and the creation of the body of
Adam in this world. What this hadith may mean is that when
Adam’s creation was not yet completed (that is, at the dawn of the
creation of mankind) it was already decided by God that the Prophet
Muhammad would become a prophet.
With respect to the other prophetic hadith: “The spirits are [like]
armies that have lined up. Those who are familiar with each other
come together and those who are not separate [disagree with] from
one another”, I think this hadith suggests that what is more
important than the physical union of two people is the harmony bet-
ween their spirits. When people meet those whose spirits match
each other, they feel very close to each other and united.
With respect to the phrase: “Verily God the Almighty created the
spirits two thousand years before the bodies”, which can be found in
some versions of the same hadith, it is true that it literally suggests
that the spirits were created before bodies. However, four points
must be made. First, this hadith, even in its literal sense, does not
suggest that the spirits were eternal (qadīm). Second, those who
take such hadiths literally must note that this hadith conflicts with
their literal understanding of the previous hadith about Adam and
the Prophet Muḥammad, because certainly Adam’s body was cre-
ated several thousand years before the body of the Prophet Muḥam-
mad. This would imply that the soul of the Prophet Muḥammad too
must have been created several thousand years (and not just 2000
years) before his body. Third, since the souls or spirits are imam-
terial in essence there is no sense in which their creation apart from
body can be fixed to a certain time. Fourth, according to a well-
known rule in Arabic grammar (included in the study of the Princip-
les of Jurisprudence, as well), if this really meant that every human
spirit is created literally 2000 years before the corresponding hu-
man body is created, it would be wrong to use the plural forms of
rūḥ (soul; spirit) and jasad (body) with the definite article (in Ara-
bic, alif and lām), which indicates universality. Certainly it cannot be
said that the bodies are created altogether at the same time and that
all the souls are created altogether 2000 years in advance. We know
that the bodies are created at different times and the same is true
about the souls.
Thus, it seems clear that there is no conflict between the verses
of the Qur’ān and hadiths on the one side and the position of the
Muslim philosophers on the other side. Indeed, there are many
more verses of the Qur’ān and hadiths that in a much stronger way
suggest the creation of the soul at a certain stage of the development
of the embryo and, therefore, confirm the philosophical arguments.
Among different philosophical positions, to choose between Mulla
Sadra’s idea of corporeal hudūth or the Peripatetic and Illuminatio-
nist view of spiritual hudūth needs further studies, though Mulla
Sadra’s explanation of the passage: “Then We caused it to grow into
another creation. So blessed be God, the best of creators” (23:4)
seems more plausible.
References
Ibn Sina (1375/1996) Al-Shifā’, Kitāb al-Nafs (Book of the Soul),

Majlisī, Muḥamamd Bāqir (1362/1983), Biḥār al-Anwār, Vols. 58,
65 and 101, Tehran: Dār al-Kutūb.
Miṣbāḥ Yazdi, Mohamamd Taqi (1380/2001) Sharh-e Jeld-e

Hashtom-e Al-Asfār al-‘Arba’ah, Vol. 2, Qom: The Imam
Khomeini Education and Research Institute Press.
Mulla Sadra (1981) Al-Asfār, Vols. 6 and 8, Beirut: Dār al-Ihyā’ al-
Turāth al-‘Arabī.
Mulla Sadra (1981) Muqaddimāt al-Shawāhid al-Rubūbiyyah, fī al-
Manāhij al-Sulūlkiyyah, with the comments of Sabzavari,
Mashhad: Markaz al-Nashr al-Jāmi‘ī.
Mutahhari, M. (1369/1990) Ḥarakat wa Zamān, Vol. 2, Tehran:
Hikmat.
Mutahhari, M. (1366/1987), Maqālāt-e Falsafī, Vol. 1, Tehran:
Hikmat.
Shomali, M. A. (2007), “Psychic Substance: A Meeting Point
between Metaphysics & Spirituality,” in C. Kanzian & M.
Legenhausen (eds.), Substance and Attribute: Western and
Islamic Traditions in Dialogue, Frankfurt: Ontos.
Sohravardi, Shihāb al-Dīn (1977) Hikmat al-Ishraq in Majmū‘ah
Muṣannafāt Shaykh Ishraq, Vol. 2, ed. H. Corbin, Tehran:
Anjuman-e Falsafeh.
The Simple View of Personal Identity and
its Implications for Substance Dualism*
Matthias Stefan, Innsbruck
1. The discussion of personal identity
In analytic metaphysics issues of personal identity have been discus-

sed for several years now. To clarify the ontological question in fo-
cus, it needs to be demarcated from the psychological question. The
ontological question is whether a person at one time is numerically
identical to a person at another time. This must be distinguished
from the question whether a person has the same character or the
same self-image over time. Two examples might help to elucidate
the distinction: The philosophical question could be whether the
woman I met yesterday is the same person as the girl I have known
in kindergarten. The psychological question, in contrast, could be
whether a serious disease changed the character of my uncle in such
a way that we cannot talk of the same person, i.e. in this context, the
same character anymore. In what fallows, we are concerned with the
ontological question of personal identity over time.
2. The simple view
This question of personal identity can be answered in two ways (for

an excellent overview see Noonan 1989, 1-23 and 116-118):
(i) One way is by giving necessary and sufficient conditions of
personal identity. According to this position, which is called the
complex view, personal identity just consists in some simpler facts.
If these facts obtain, there is also personal identity. Normally, these
facts are taken to be psychological or bodily continuity or some com-
bination thereof. That means that p1 at t1 is identical with p2 at t2 if
and only if p1 has the same brain or the same body as p2 or stands in
250 Matthias Stefan
continuity of consciousness with p2. These conditions need to be fur-

ther specified, of course. Be that as it may, I won’t discuss the com-
plex view any further.
(ii) I am rather concerned with the so called simple view. It is the
denial of the complex view, and hence rejects the analysability of
personal identity in more basic relations. Accordingly, personal
identity cannot be analysed in terms of more basic relations, but ra-
ther is a brute further fact—unanalysable and simple. Basically, the
simple view rests on two assumptions:
First, there are no more basic identity conditions for persons.
Bodily and psychological relations are epistemic criteria for assu-
ming personal identity, but they are no truth conditions for personal
identity.1 If they are given, we are justified in our assumption of per-
sonal identity. According to the simple view, however, this does not
mean that they are more basic identity conditions. In other words,
they are evidence for identity, but personal identity does not consist
in these facts. Questions of what personal identity consists in are not
answerable informatively. Personal identity rather is a simple fur-
ther fact over and above bodily or psychological connectedness and
because of that it is not analysable. Even if we knew all about the
psychological relations between p1 at t1 and p2 at t2 we would still
have left unanswered the question of personal identity between p1
and p2. For some advocates, this means that psychological and bo-
dily criteria can “break down”: They could be misleading or even not
available at all (see e.g. Chisholm 1976, 112), as can be conceived in
thought experiments we will consider below.
Second, personal identity, because it is an unanalysable further
fact, either obtains or not. There is no graduality in personal iden-
tity. Loosely speaking, I cannot be a bit identical with myself next
year and a bit less identical with myself in ten years. Because of its
simplicity, it cannot obtain only to a certain degree. If it consisted in
identity conditions, they could be realised or fulfilled only to some
1 I am concerned only with the thesis that personal identity is a simple and
unanalysable fact in contrast to identity of objects like tables, stones or cars.
I am not concerned with the thesis that there are no identity conditions of
any entity whatsoever. See e.g. Merricks 1998.
The simple view and its implications for substance dualism 251
degree: A person p2, for instance, could have 30, 60 or 90 percent of

p1’s brain or could stand only to some degree in continuity of con-
sciousness to p1. But since there are no identity conditions according
to the simple view, there is no graduality. So both assumptions,
simplicity and non-graduality, are deeply intertwined.
3. Richard Swinburne’s position
These brief remarks should suffice for the moment. In what fallows I
sketch Richard Swinburne’s argumentation in favour of the simple
view (most fully elaborated in Swinburne 1984 and 1986), which is
representative of the views held by many advocates of the simple
view.
Swinburne starts with a negative argument that should show the
deficiency of the complex view. He first refers to a thought
experiment of psychological division by Thomas Reid: It is concei-
vable that two persons, p2 and p3, have by all standards the same
memories of the same quality as an earlier person p1 (Swinburne
1984, 13-14). Swinburne’s argument is restricted to the memory cri-
terion, but it can be easily expanded to all kinds of psychological cri-
teria2. Furthermore, the same is conceivable concerning the bodily
criterion in thought experiments of division (Swinburne 1984, 14-
15). We can think of cases where p1’s brain is split and implanted in-
to two different bodies, so that there are two successors—let’s call
them p2 and p3. According to the bodily criterion, they must be iden-
tical. But how could that be, given that they have different brains
and different properties? There is a major problem concerning both
bodily and psychological division: There are two persons, p2 and p3,
with different properties. Because of this, we cannot assume them to
be identical. However, if they are not assumed identical, then the
transitivity of identity is violated: The complex view in its different
versions is forced to say that p1 is identical to p2 and p3. However, p2
2 See e.g. Shoemaker’s example of the brain-state-transfer device (Shoemaker

1984, 108-111).
252 Matthias Stefan
and p3 are not identical. This obviously contradicts the transitivity of

identity.
Swinburne rejects the so called ad hoc solution to the problem at
hand. According to the ad hoc solution, personal identity is only
given in case there is one single person successor, i.e. if only p2 or p3
exist. If both, p2 and p3, exist, neither of them is identical to the
original person p1. This argument, though, has the absurd conse-
quence that the identity of a person depends on what happens to
another person that has no intrinsic relation to her. That is, whether
p1 is identical with p2 depends on what happens to p2, even though
p2 is independent of p3. This consequence is absurd according to
Swinburne: “[H]ow can who I am depend on what happens to you?”
(Swinburne 1984, 16)
Swinburne also raises the problem of gradual identity as argu-
ment against the complex view, according to which identity consists
in certain bodily or psychological relations. If this is true, these iden-
tity conditions can be implemented more or less and thus come in
degrees:
P2 can have 90 percent, or 80 percent, or less than 50 per cent of the

brain of P1; and likewise the similarity of apparent memory and
character may vary along a spectrum. Just how well do criteria have to
be satisfied for the later person to be the same person as the earlier
one? (Swinburne 1984, 17)
This question poses a problem for the complex view in its bodily and
psychological versions, as every answer seems to be arbitrary.
Where should we draw the line, even if we know all about the bodily
and psychological relations?
Suppose, for instance, that everyone agrees that 50 percent of
the brain suffices for personal identity. Suppose further that there is
a succession of persons that get 60 percent of the brain of the
predecessor implanted. Then, according to the definition of identity,
p2 would be identical to p1, because she got 60 percent of p1’s brain.
p3 is identical to p1, because she got 60 percent of p2’s brain and p2 is
identical to p1—and so on until pn (Swinburne 1984, 16). This simple
thought experiment shows that any solution to the problem of
gradual personal identity available to the complex view has to be

very arbitrary or even contradict the transitivity of identity (as pn
cannot be identical to p1, but there is a succession of identity in bet-
ween).
In this argument, Swinburne supposes that personal identity
cannot be gradual. That means questions about personal identity do
not allow for open answers. This assumption is in accordance with
our own conception of ourselves. Nevertheless, it has been challen-
ged by Derek Parfit (e.g. Parfit 1971 and 1984, 231-243). He claims
that personal identity is not a strict fact and could in odd circum-
stances become gradual. Swinburne rejects Parfit’s criticism on the
basis of two counter arguments:
First, consider the following thought experiment by Bernard
Williams that was already mentioned before: A mad surgeon divides
the brain of p1 into two halves and implants each half into two other
bodies (destroying the original one). So, after the operation there
exist two persons, p2 and p3, each having half of the original brain of
p1. Both stand in the same relation to p1 that we would under normal
circumstances consider as (indicator for) identity. The mad surgeon
tells p1 that he will torture one person and release and reward the
other one subsequently to the operation. However, the mad surgeon
leaves the decision to p1 what should happen with which person
(Swinburne 1984, 18). Of course, p1 wants to be released and rewar-
ded, but how should she decide? Swinburne remarks that according
to Parfit, p1’s decision doesn’t matter, because he would survive in
both persons. Because they are in the same relation to p1, p1 should
partly be happy to get rewarded and partly be afraid to be punished.
There is, according to Parfit, no definite answer to the question whe-
ther p1 will be the person punished or the person rewarded. But that
is absurd according to Swinburne. How could p1 have reason to be
happy and afraid at the same time, if none of the successors, p2 and
p3, will experience a mixed fate?
[O]ne problem is this: how could you have reason for part joyous
expectation and part terrified anticipation, when no one future person
is going to suffer a mixed fate? (Swinburne 1984, 18)
254 Matthias Stefan
But even if we could make sense of these assumptions (as Parfit

claims), there is a second, maybe even more pressing problem (not
only for Parfit, but for the complex view in general):
We can make sense of the supposition that the victim makes the wrong
choice, and has the experience of being tortured and not the experience
of being rewarded; or the right choice, and has the experience of being
rewarded and not the experience of being tortured (Swinburne 1984,
18).
According to Swinburne the basic assumption that p1 could have

made the wrong decision makes perfect sense for us. And that is a
fact that strongly supports the simple view. According to Parfit there
must not be such an epistemic risk of wrongly assuming personal
identity: If we know all bodily or psychological facts, we know all
about personal identity there is to know. We should know “how
much” p2 and p3 are identical with p1. Swinburne, however, shows
that we can perfectly make sense of making a mistake in our as-
sumption of personal identity. There is a risk even in case we know
all about the psychological or bodily relations (Swinburne 1984, 19).
We still know what it means for p1 to be p2 and not p3, for instance.
This is best explained by assuming personal identity as a basic fact
additional to bodily or psychological relations. We might not know
what happens in case of brain division, but the fact itself of making
sense of the assumption that one of the successors, p2 or p3, is
identical with p1 shows that the assumption that p1’s decision is
irrelevant can be rejected. It is relevant because it could be that p1 is
identical with either p2 or p3 even though they both stand in the
same bodily and also psychological relation to p1.
Thus, Swinburne rejects Parfit’s conclusion:
The alternative way [Swinburne’s simple view, M.S.] out of the

duplication problem is to say that although apparent memory and
brain continuity are, as they obviously are, evidence of personal identi-
ty, they are fallible evidence and personal identity is something distinct
from them (Swinburne 1984, 19).
Because of these arguments against Parfit and the arguments that

have been described above, Swinburne concludes that the simple
view is the most plausible position concerning personal identity.
Personal Identity cannot be analysed in terms of bodily or psycholo-
gical relations, which provide only fallible evidence (Swinburne
1984, 20-21). Rather, it is a simple and additional fact.
Swinburne has argued that it is conceivable that there are bodily
or psychological relations without personal identity. He even claims
that it is coherently conceivable that there is no need for psychologi-
cal or bodily relations at all for personal identity (Swinburne 1984,
22-25). We can well conceive having a different body and different
mental states. From these arguments, substance dualism in philoso-
phy of mind follows naturally, as they seem to imply that the person
must be distinct from its body and psychological constitution. Thus,
according to Swinburne, a person has a soul in addition to her body
(Swinburne 1984, 29-30). There is a close connection between Swin-
burne’s arguments for dualism and the simple view (see Swinburne
1986, 145-160):
This is in essence the way of expressing the simple theory which is

adopted by those who say that a person living on Earth consists of two
parts—a material part, the body; and an immaterial part, the soul
(Swinburne 1984, 27).
4. The simple view and substance dualism
Swinburne’s argumentation is representative of that of many

advocates of the simple view. Thus, it should have become clear that
the simple view basically argues from the rejection of the complex
view and from how we conceive of ourselves.3
It should also have become clear why the simple view has tradi-
tionally been associated with substance dualism in the philosophy of
mind. This apparent connection between the simple view and
3 Note, however, that there are important exceptions to this kind of argumen-
tation, particularly Jonathan Lowe (1988 and 1994).
256 Matthias Stefan
substance dualism also has been a major argument against the

simple view (see e.g. Parfit 1984, 210-228). Indeed, I am convinced
that theories of personal identity can only be adequately evaluated
by taking their anthropological implications into consideration.
Thus, for an evaluation of the simple view it is of vital importance to
consider its implications for anthropology.
Before considering the connection between the simple view and
substance dualism, we should with all necessary brevity ask what
substance dualism as classically conceived says (see e.g. Zimmer-
man 2007). It basically assumes that persons are either an additi-
onal substance to their body or consist of the compound of two
substances. For the sake of simplicity I will consider the first case in
what follows, even though everything I will say can be applied to
both cases. The additional part that is identified with the person
does not just consist in non-material properties, but rather in a di-
stinct substance. So, persons are identical to non-material, i.e. men-
tal, substances that are distinct from their bodies. It is quite diffi-
cult, however, to precisely state what a mental substance is. Mostly
it is defined in dissociation of material substances: A mental sub-
stance, thus, is non-material, i.e. not objectively observable, having
privileged access to itself, or the like. I suspect that this notion is no-
thing less mysterious than the initial one. It might well be that the
concepts of materiality and non-materiality are so basic that it is
impossible to define them non-circularly. Be that as it may, I think
that our intuitive grasp of the notion is sufficient for the moment be-
ing. In a nutshell, classically, substance dualism has been consi-
dered as the claim that persons are simple, non-material or mental
substances distinct from their bodies.
At least two of these three features of substance dualism seem to
be implied by the simple view: (i) The simple view denies the
graduality of identity and assumes that personal identity is a further
simple fact above psychological and bodily connectedness. Thus, it
seems natural to suppose that these assumptions imply that a per-
son is a substance additional to and distinct from its body. If a
person is identical with its brain, for instance, she cannot exist
through time without brain continuity. Of course, brain matter can
change, but it has to do so gradually while still providing the same

functional assembly. (ii) Furthermore, persons must be simple. If a
person consists in certain parts, be they bodily or psychological, its
identity has to consist in some relation between these parts. One
could argue that the relation holding between temporal or bodily
parts and constituting personal identity is still simple. But that is
not what I am concerned with here: If that is true, personal identity
still would consist in a certain relation holding between its parts and
thus would be reduced. But that exactly is what the simple view, as
understood here, denies. Of course, the relation holding between the
parts could be a simple one. But that is of no interest, as in that case
the fact of personal identity would still be analysed in terms of more
basic relations between its parts (e.g. a unity relation holding
between its parts; see Perry 2002). How could an entity consist in
parts, but at the same time not have its identity conditions grounded
in certain relations holding between its parts? Even if the entity
composed of parts is more than just the sum of them (e.g. their
functional assembly), the argument holds, because the entity still
needs to consist in its parts and exist through time on the basis of
some kind of relation between these parts.4 We will shortly consider
a more elaborate argument by Jonathan Lowe for this assumption.
If the assumed connection between substance dualism and the
simple view is correct, rejecting substance dualism on other grounds
also means that the complex view must be correct.
4 This does not mean that an entity cannot be simple and still have parts non-
essentially or derivatively. In this sense I would not consider Lynne Rudder-
Baker’s position as materialistic (even though she herself uses that term and
even though in other respects that might be true), but I cannot go into detail
about that here: See Baker 2000, chap. 4 and 5. So my assumption does not
imply that persons cannot have bodily parts derivatively and still have a
simple identity condition. See Lowe 1996, 32-38. It does however deny that
persons can have parts essentially, i.e. consist in them, and still have simple
identity conditions apart from relations between their parts. Note also that
a simple substance is a substance that has no proper parts. It could,
nevertheless, have improper parts like the northern part or its upper half.
258 Matthias Stefan
5. What kind of dualism is implied by the simple view?
As we have seen, it is plausible to assume that the simple view

implies some kind of substance dualism. Accordingly, a person is
identical to a simple substance that is distinct from its body and can
logically exist independently from it. So far, however, the simple
view is silent on the question whether the person is a mental or
material substance. In what follows I want to argue that the assump-
tion that persons are mental substances—as classic dualism assu-
mes—is not supported by the simple view.
Roderick Chisholm (1978/1998) once considered the question
whether persons could be simple material entities. Chisholm is an
advocate of the simple view (see Chisholm 1976, 89-113) and thus
rejects the thesis that persons could be macroscopic bodies on the
basis of his considerations on personal identity (Chisholm
1978/1998, 291-292). He argues that a person can have no parts. As
we have seen, the simple view implies that persons are simple, be-
cause they have no more basic identity conditions. According to
Chisholm it is possible, however, that persons are material entities
without parts (Chisholm 1978/1998, 292). Such an entity would be
material but simple and thus also not reducible to its brain, even if it
would be located in the brain (Chisholm 1978/1998, 293). The brain
is the organ of thought, but not the subject. Chisholm thus argues
that it is possible for persons to be simple material substances and
that this thesis is compatible with the simple view.
But if persons are material substances, a possible counterargu-
ment would go, that would contradict the simple view as even
simple material substances must be empirically observable. And if
this is true, then there must be identity conditions for material sub-
stances.
Jonathan Lowe, however, has argued convincingly against such a
reply. According to Lowe the identity of complex substances, i.e.
substances having proper parts, consists in their parts:
In the case of composite substances, their identity over time (their

diachronic identity) is always grounded in some equivalence relation
defined over their actual or possible components (Lowe 1994, 545).
Identity over time of complex substances does not simply consist in

the identity of their parts, as their change does not necessarily mean
that the substance ceased to exist. Rather diachronic identity con-
sists in the individual and functional composition of the parts, which
Lowe calls the form of the substance (Lowe 1988, 71-74): “It is the
form of a substance, rather than its matter that must be preserved
through qualitative and relational changes in that substance” (Lowe
1994, 545).
Once this account of providing identity conditions is accepted, it
follows that simple substances cannot have any more basic identity
conditions. Lowe achieves this result by rejecting each possible way
of providing more basic identity conditions for simple substances:
First, entities that depend ontologically in their existence on the
substance at hand (for instance temporal or spatial parts, events
happening at the substance, etc.) cannot account for its identity
conditions. Obviously, every provision of such identity conditions
would be bluntly circular (Lowe 1994, 546).
Second, identity conditions that are defined over other entities
that do not depend on the simple substance at hand can be excluded
as well. No such identity condition is compatible with the substance
status of the entity at hand (Lowe 1994, 547). A substance is defined
as an entity that does not depend for its existence on any other
entity apart from itself and its proper parts (see Lowe 1994, chap. 2).
In other words, it is ontologically independent of other entities.
Thus, its identity over time cannot depend on any other entity apart
from itself, which would be trivial, or its proper parts.
Finally, a simple substance per definition has no proper parts,
which means that its identity also cannot consist in their continuity.
We have seen that this way of providing identity conditions is the
basic one according to Lowe. However, as simple substances have
no parts, such an account fails for them.
These considerations lead Lowe to the conclusion that simple
substances cannot have any more basic identity conditions apart
from their simple persistence:
[W]e may conclude [...] that the diachronic identity of a simple

substance cannot be grounded in any equivalence relation defined over
260 Matthias Stefan
objects distinct from itself—which is as much as to say that it can have

no criteria [i.e. identity conditions in my terminology, M.S.] of
diachronic identity (Lowe 1994, 548).
This argument gives further support for my thesis that the simple
view implies that persons are simple substances (and thus distinct
from their bodies).
6. Simplicity and mentality
We have seen that the simple view implies some kind of substance
dualism, in the sense that persons are simple and distinct from their
bodies. It does not, however, support the classic assumption that
these substances are mental in nature. The simple view is perfectly
compatible with persons being simple material substances. As
Lowe’s argument has shown, it is conceivable that every simple
substance, apart from its mental or material nature, is void of more
basic identity conditions. So, even if persons are material but sim-
ple, their identity condition is simply their identity over time and
nothing else. Furthermore, assuming that persons are simple mate-
rial substances is also compatible with the rejection of gradual
personal identity and thus with the second basic assumption of the
simple view. Even if persons are material entities, the rejection of
more basic identity conditions for persons implies that personal
identity cannot come in degrees.
I thus conclude that the question whether persons are simple is
essential for the concept of personal identity. So far it seems that
this is not true for the question of mentality. Thus, it seems that the
mentality of persons is not necessary for their simple identity.
Nevertheless, there are still some doubts concerning this thesis I ha-
ve not addressed yet. The simple view claims to be in accordance
with our common sense self-understanding. We have reasons, how-
ever, to say that we as persons understand our own identity over ti-
me as fundamentally different from the identity over time of simple
material atoms. That is because our everyday concept of personal
identity, our own identity included, is based upon our first person
perspective. We can take up the perspective of other persons and

thereby know what it means for them as well to be the same person
over time. We simply know what it means that a person is identical
without knowledge of her psychological or bodily relations, because
we can take up her perspective knowing what must be the case for
that perspective to be the same. The first-person perspective seems
to be essential for our understanding of personal identity. This
might not be assumable concerning simple material atoms which
still lack more basic identity conditions according to Lowe’s argu-
ment. If it is true that our concept of personal identity is based upon
the ability to take up another person’s perspectives, then there seem
to be arguments that the mental nature of persons plays some vital
role for the simple view. One has to consider, however, whether this
concerns the nature of the substances identifiable with persons or
only some properties of them: In other words, are these considera-
tions compatible with persons being simple material atoms having
the property of a first person perspective?
Let me conclude this paper with the reminder that questions
about personal identity should not be detached from questions
about what persons are: The assumption of simplicity, advocates of
the simple view claim, not only circumvents the problems of the
complex view but also explains our basic conception of ourselves.
Whether the simple view has less pressing problems and whether its
arguments are more convincing than those of the complex view, I
leave to the reader to decide.
References
Rudder-Baker, L. (2000) Persons and Bodies, Cambridge: Cambrid-

ge University Press.
Chisholm, R. (1976) Person and Object, London: George Allan &
Unwin.
Chisholm, R. (1978/1998) “Is There a Mind-Body-Problem”, The
Philosophical Exchange 2, 25-34; reprinted as: Chisholm, R.
262 Matthias Stefan
“Which Physical Thing Am I?”, in P. van Inwagen & D.

Zimmerman (eds.) (1998) Metaphysics: The Big Questions,
Oxford: Blackwell, 291-296.
Lowe, E. J. (1988) “Substance, Identity and Time”, in E. J. Lowe &
H. Noonan Substance, Identity and Time. Proceedings of the
Aristotelian Society 62, 61-100.
Lowe, E. J. (1994) “Primitive Substances”, Philosophy and Pheno-
menological Research 54 (3), 531-552.
Lowe, E. J. (1996) Subjects of Experience, Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press.
Merricks, T. (1998) “There Are No Criteria of Identity Over Time”,
Nous 32 (1), 106-124.
Noonan, H. (1989) Personal Identity, London/New York: Routledge.
Parfit, D. (1971) “Personal Identity”, The Philosophical Review 80
(1), 3-27.
Parfit, D. (1984) Reasons and Persons, Oxford: Oxford University
Press.
Perry, J. (2002) “Can the Self Divide?”, in J. Perry Identity, Personal
Identity and the Self, Indianapolis/Cambridge: Hackett Publi-
shing, 34-63.
Shoemaker, S. (1984) “Personal Identity: a Materialist’s Account”, in
R. Swinburne & S. Shoemaker Personal Identity, Oxford: Black-
well, 69-132.
Swinburne, R. (1984) “Personal Identity: The Dualist Theory”, in R.
Swinburne & S. Shoemaker Personal Identity, Oxford: Blackwell,
3-66.
Swinburne, R. (1986) The Evolution of the Soul, Oxford: Oxford
University Press.
Zimmerman, D. (2007) “Dualism in the Philosophy of Mind”,
Encyclopaedia of Philosophy, New York: Macmillan, 113-122.
*This research-project was made possible by financial support from the Austria Science Fund (FWF),
grant P201860-G14
Two Kinds of Ontological Dualism
Erwin Tegtmeier, Mannheim
1. The Dualism of the Mental and the Physical
British Empiricism and German Idealism have blurred the distinc-

tion between the mental and the physical. Physical objects such as a
chair or a tree have been construed as complexes of sense data and
thus as complexes of mental contents. Kant has built his epistemolo-
gy on this fundamental confusion. Kant holds mind to be much mo-
re active than Locke and Hume had assumed and to be the producer
of the objects of knowledge, which starts with unstructured material
caused by something outside the mind. Brentano tried to overcome
idealism by first clearing the confusion between the mental and the
physical and by fixing the distinction (Brentano 1874, 2. Buch, 1.
Kap). He first held on to intentionality as the hallmark of the
mental. His methodological maxim was to start from the phenome-
nological data and he counted the distinction between the mental
and the physical as such a datum. Before he could note the hallmark
common to everything mental, Brentano had to get hold of the class
of all mental phenomena and contrast it with the class of all physical
phenomena.
The idealists attempt to show that these are not two different
classes, and so do the materialists. Today, idealists are rare. Mate-
rialists, according to whom everything is physical, dominate; and
dualism in the tradition of Descartes or Brentano has a hard time.
Materialists have to reduce the mental to the physical. The possibi-
lity of such a reduction is suggested by the thesis of psycho-physio-
logical parallelism, although this thesis implies a dualism and no
reduction. It is accepted by most psychologists and says that each
mental state is correlated with a physiological state in the brain such
that the accompanying brain states are different when the mental
states are different. Obviously, the brain states are physical. Sym-
bolise by MS a mental state and by PH the accompanying brain
264 Erwin Tegtmeier
state. A reduction of the mental to the physical along the lines of

psycho-physiological parallelism would amount, with respect to our
case, to a claim of identity between MS and PH, or rather to the
claim that MS is nothing but PH. Let MS stand for a mental state of
hearing and PH for the parallel state of the brain (the electrical and
chemical activity of a certain area of the brain). It is easy to see that
the identity claim is false. What presents itself to us when we are
aware of hearing something, for example1, is very different from an
electro-chemical brain state. To see this, it is not necessary to take
into account that the first is mental and the second physical. It is
enough to compare how the hearing and how the brain state is.
I want to elucidate my argument of the obvious difference by an-
other proposed reduction, the reduction of colours to the wave-
lengths of light rays. Colours are obviously different from lengths or
rather from distances between amplitudes. The colour lime green,
for example, is obviously different from the correlated wavelength.
To be sure, lime green light actually has that wavelength. Neverthe-
less, the two are different. That two properties occur at one and the
same thing does not make them one and the same property.
I called differences between mental and accompanying brain
states “obvious”. Hence, I presupposed that we know the two kinds
of states and that we are acquainted with how they are. That seems
to go without saying and should be taken for granted. When we per-
ceive a lime green object we are presented with the colour lime
green and we are also presented in perception by lengths and have
only to transfer it to light waves in order to get a clear idea of the
structure of light waves. The difference is so great that it stands out
and is obvious. No theoretical presuppositions seem necessary to
recognize the difference. The readout on a spectrometer is also obvi-
ously different from seeing the respective colour.
1 I deliberately choose a property of mental states as an example although I

know that the analytical philosophy of mind is still on the Humean position
of recognising only sense data, now called more nobly and to suggest
novelty “qualia” (see Gadenne 2004, Kap. 5). I maintain that without
mental states there can be no intentionality.
However, today the more implicit than explicit view endemic in

analytic philosophy is rather that the objects of mental states are not
given to us. Instead, according to this view, we have only a descrip-
tion of the object, also called a representational content which the
object is supposed to fulfil. Materialists deny that there are mental
acts intentionally related to objects, of course. They have to rely on
linguistic representation and the causal relations of the brain state
to other brain states and to the environment. This view does not
allow to speak of the presenting itself of the object and it makes the
epistemologically realist claim that we know the world as it is in it-
self very doubtful if not impossible. At any rate, it implies that we
know the objects, including their properties and natures (such as
lime green or being long) only indistinctly and that they could be
very different from how they appear to be. Hence, according to this
epistemology and semantics without an intentional relation to the
object the mental properties could be in reality brain properties
though the correlated properties are given to us as very different. In
so far as this epistemology stems from materialism it reinforces it-
self by its epistemological and semantic implications. But it also
undermines itself because those implications are strongly sceptical
and thus makes all claims of knowledge fundamentally specious.
Isn’t that the salient characteristic of contemporary analytical phi-
losophy: deep scepticism (at most a jump into or a bullying of the
astute mind into a philosophically unjustified realism)?
2. Is the Distinction between the Mental and Physical Categorial?
At first, the division into mental and physical was a division of prop-
erties or natures. To characterise a mental state as a perception is to
indicate one of its properties, one of its natures. Likewise, it is a
property of an individual brain that a certain area of it is activated.
Now, to say of the perception that it is mental and of the activation
of the brain area that it is physical amounts to a characterisation of a
characterisation and could be understood as the ascription of prop-
erties of the second order to properties of the first order. We know
266 Erwin Tegtmeier
those properties of the second order, and we take them to be incom-

patible. Therefore, we could use them to decide whether the proper-
ties correlated in accordance with the thesis of psycho-physiological
parallelism could be reduced to each other in one of the two direc-
tions. The outcome would be negative. Since on the one side of the
parallelism there are the mental and on the other side the physical
properties. However, we saw that we need not draw on the second
order properties of mental and physical, because the first order
properties compared were obviously different.
The two properties of the second order are not only useful to
block reduction of the mental to the physical or the other way round
but they are also important for their own sake. As was mentioned
already, the properties of the second order exclude each other, i.e., a
property of the first order is either mental or physical. They seem
also jointly exhaustive in their domain of properties of the first or-
der, i.e., each property has one of the two properties either that of
being mental or that of being physical. Hence the two properties of
the second order determine a classification. Moreover, the classifi-
cation is rather comprehensive since it covers the domain of all
properties of the first order. Possibly it covers more kinds of entities
and even all entities, i.e., existents. Therefore, one could take the
dichotomy to be categorial, and the mental and the physical to be
ontological categories.
In order to decide whether the mental and the physical are on-
tological categories one has to start from a system of categories,
from a hierarchy of categories that belongs to an ontological theory.
I will ask the question whether the mental and the physical are cate-
gories with respect to the ontology I advocate (Tegtmeier 1993). The
question is then whether the category candidates can be fitted into
the category hierarchy. Until now, I talked about properties. Onto-
logically, this is not precise enough. Properties can be categorised
either as universals (i.e. it is assumed that more then one thing can
have the same property) or as particular (which implies that they
can be properties of one thing only). Particular properties are today
mostly called “tropes”. In my ontology properties are universals and
not tropes. But the category of universals is not one of the highest
categories of its category hierarchy. There are three highest catego-

ries: things, facts, and forms. Facts consist of things and forms give
things and facts their category membership. The category of things
has the two subcategories of individuals and universals. Universals
come in several subcategories divided according to the number of
things to which they are connected in facts. There are universals that
are connected to only one other thing. They are called “non-relatio-
nal universals”. There are relational universals that are connected to
two, to three and to four other things. They are called “two-term
universals”, “three-term universals” and “four-term universals”. In
addition, universals are divided into universals of the first and uni-
versals of the second order. The mental and physical properties we
first examined would be categorised as non-relational universals of
the first order. Hence, if the mental and the physical were categories
at all in my ontology, they would be subcategories of the category of
non-relational universals of the first order. However, the properties
of higher order of being mental and of being physical could not be
categorised as universals since they would determine categories. As
was mentioned already, the bases of category membership are
forms. Forms are connected to what they form more closely than
things (individuals and universals) are connected to each other by
facts. Thus, although mental and physical can be characterised as
properties they cannot be put in the category of universals in my
ontology like the members of the classes of the mental and the
physical we examined until now.
The category of universals is co-ordinated and opposed to the
category of individuals. It follows from the laws for classificatory
hierarchies that if the mental and the physical are subcategories of
the category of non-relational universals of the first order, they
cannot be also subcategories of the category of individuals. A class
must not occur twice in the hierarchy. It has to have exactly one
place in the hierarchy. Consequently, if non-relational universals of
the first order are divided into mental and physical ones, individuals
cannot also be equally divided. But then, relational universals of the
first order also cannot be divided into mental and physical ones.
That would be questionable since there are clearly physical and
268 Erwin Tegtmeier
mental relations. Thus, the categories of the mental and the physical
would occur twice as subcategories of the categories of the non-
relational universals of the first order and as subcategories of the
category of relational universals of the first order.
It would be no solution to place the dichotomy between mental
and physical above the division between individuals and universals,
either. Then the mental and the physical would be subcategories of
the category of things. But the same difficulty arises. Since, as we
already noted, there are mental relations as well as mental proper-
ties, and physical relations as well as physical properties, the catego-
ries of relational and non-relational universals would have to appear
several times in the hierarchy of categories of my ontology.
As the classification into the mental and the physical has a very
large domain and might be thought to classify all existents, the pro-
posal suggests itself of establishing the classification as the highest
categorial division. That seems to be the only way to avoid the diffi-
culties discussed and to have a category system where all categories
occur only once. However, this demands a comprehensive adapta-
tion of all the subcategories to the two highest categories of the
mental and the physical. In my ontology with its categories as a
given the difficulty would still arise. Hence, the conclusion has to be
that the mental and the physical cannot enter as categories in the
category hierarchy of my ontology.
It seems that that the mental and the physical can be categories
only if all the other categories are separated accordingly, i.e. only if
no category comprises mental as well as physical members. Now,
traditionally in ontology the same system of categories is applied to
the mental as well as to the physical. In Aristotle, for example, the
category of substance is applied to the mental as well as to the
physical. Descartes’ (1644, part I) ontology stands out as one that
accommodates the division between the mental and the physical as
a division between two categories, which emphasises the disparity
(radical difference) between the mental and the physical and which
excludes any categorial overlap between the two realms.
Bergmann showed in his book Realism how Descartes’ ontology
contains the seed of a development to idealism (Bergmann 1967,
part II) and he introduces a test for an ontology without tendency

toward idealism. The test is just whether the same categories apply
to the mental and to the physical. My own ontology passes that test
and as a consequence the classes of the mental and the physical are
not admitted as categories. If Bergmann is right in his diagnosis that
Descartes’ ontology creates a trend towards idealism it is, in a way,
self-defeating, as idealism eliminates again the dualism of the men-
tal and the physical which Descartes established with great effort in
favour of mental monism.
3. Are there Mental Individuals?
I said that my ontology is designed to apply the same categories to

the mental and the physical. That does not mean that all categories
are applicable to the mental and to the physical. Clearly, forms such
as conjunction and negation are neither mental nor physical. Pre-
sumably, facts also are neither mental, nor physical although they
have constituents that are mental or physical. The cases by which we
introduced the distinction between mental and physical were quali-
ties or natures. Such entities are categorised in my ontology, as was
mentioned already, as universals. Thus the distinction between
mental and physical is primarily a distinction between universals.
The question which poses itself is whether individuals can also be
divided into mental and physical individuals, whether individuals
can be characterised as mental or as physical. The question poses
itself because in my ontology a mental individual would be what one
usually calls a soul (or a mind). Individuals are connected with uni-
versals in facts. Such facts explain the possession of properties onto-
logically. An individual is what has the properties. Consider the in-
dividuals that have the mental properties or are in a mental state.
Do they also have physical properties? Or, do they have only mental
properties (universals)? If there were individuals that had only men-
tal and no physical properties, then one could say that there are
souls. If mental properties in all cases belonged to individuals that
also had physical properties, then one could say that there are no
270 Erwin Tegtmeier
souls, but that bodies have mental properties, too. It turns out that
the souls envisaged here are Cartesian, not Aristotelian, souls. Aris-
totelian souls are the movers of bodies and also the essences of
bodies (Aristotle De Anima II). The individuals of my ontology are
as such not active. Only if they are also organisms are they active.
Being an organism is based on certain facts. The term “individuals”
is used here not in the customary sense as synonym of “persons” but
in a technical ontological sense, of course, as the name of a category.
The members of the category of individuals have a certain categorial
form (which is called “individuality” in a special technical sense) of
themselves (without any facts connecting individuals and individu-
ality). That is what makes them individuals. But apart from their
categorial forms, they get their natures by facts that connect them to
universals of the first order. It the properties of being mental and
being physical are categorised in my ontology as non-relational uni-
versals of the second order, they cannot be connected with individu-
als. Individuals can be connected only with universals of the first
order. It follows that as long as being mental is categorised as a sec-
ond order universal, my ontology does not admit mental individuals
in the sense of individuals connected by facts with the universal of
being mental. However, it does not exclude that some individuals
are connected by facts only to mental universals and that all indi-
viduals connected with mental universals are connected with mental
universals only and not with physical universals. The individuals
connected with mental and not with physical universals could also
be characterised in a wider sense as mental individuals.
4. The Argument from Introspection
What is needed now is an argument for or against individuals with

mental but without physical properties. I think an argument can be
advanced for such individuals. It draws on introspection. When we
introspect our perceiving or remembering, when we become aware
of our perceiving or remembering something, as one commonly
says, we are presented with a fact which connects an individual and
a universal. The universal is in any such case a mental one. We do
not introspect the corresponding physiological universal. We do not

introspect any physical universal. We do not introspect an individ-
ual with a physical universal. Clearly and surely, we do not intro-
spect an individual which is connected with both mental and physi-
cal universals.
Do we perceive such individuals? Obviously, we perceive indivi-
duals with physical properties. The question is whether we ever
perceive an individual which also has mental properties. The claim
that we never perceive mental properties and states may seem
doubtful because we frequently use talk which suggests that we per-
ceive the mental states other people. One says, for example, “I saw
that you observed him” or “I heard in his voice that he was angry
with me”. Such phrases are misleading, I think. What one sees or
hears in these cases are just indications or indicators of mental
states.
Influenced by Wittgenstein's argument against private lan-
guages, many philosophers argue that introspection must be irrele-
vant even to the meaning of mental terms, because language learn-
ing always happens in public (between people), while introspection
is conceived to be private, i.e. restricted to one’s own mental states.
These philosophers even doubt that there is such a thing as intro-
spection. The notion of being public involved is deceptive because it
makes us forget that the public objects have to be perceived. Several
persons share, so to speak, the public object only insofar they all
perceive them. It is highly implausible that only perception plays a
role in the language learning of a child and introspection does not,
all the more since the learning child is rather active. Thus, I would
deny that mental words have to refer to something we perceive and I
would maintain that we do not perceive mental properties and
states.
I conclude that we never introspect, nor perceive an individual
which is connected with both mental and physical properties. This
cannot be my final step of the argument, though. Rather, the final
conclusion has to be that there are no individuals that are both men-
tal and physical and that the class of individuals with mental univer-
272 Erwin Tegtmeier
sals is thus separate from the class of individuals with physical

properties.
One would not want to infer in general from not being perceived
and introspected to not being existent. We know in everyday life and
in science about many things we do not perceive, about individual
things and about kinds of things. However, our case is special. Phy-
sical and mental universals are given but they are not given together
at the same individual. If an object is too small or too large or too
fast or too slow, it may be impossible to perceive it but the to-
getherness of two properties should not be an impediment to per-
ception or introspection, provided the object exists.
Since it was noted that by introspection we know only mental
properties and by perception only physical properties, one may sus-
pect that it is only due to the restrictions of our mental capacities
that we do not introspect or perceive individuals with mental as well
as physical universals. However, suppose that there exist individuals
with both mental and physical universals, the mental universals of
which are introspected. Why should we be unable to introspect its
physical universals? Or suppose that we perceive all its physical uni-
versals. Why should we be unable to perceive all its mental univer-
sals? If we perceive its physical universals it is in reach and there
seems to be no impediment to perceive the mental universals, pro-
vided only that they are present at the individual. I admit these are
not cogent but merely plausibility arguments for the view that indi-
viduals with physical universals are not introspected because the
individuals introspected don't have physical properties and that
individuals with mental universals are not perceived because the in-
dividuals perceived lack mental properties. It is basically the view
that individuals divide into two classes, the class of those with
mental and the class of those with physical universals. The members
of the former would be the souls.
I talked of “individuals with mental universals” instead of talking
of “mental individuals”, being mental, as was mentioned already, is
a non-relational universal of the second order, i. e., a property of
properties, not a property of individuals. Therefore, individuals can-
not be mental in the sense of being connected with the universal of

being mental.
To have individuals which are mental in the strict sense one has
to drop categorising being mental as a second order universal. But if
it were categorised as a non-relational universal of the first order it
could not be connected with universals and the advantage of that
move would be only to open the ontological possibility of individuals
connected with the universal of being mental. It would not be an
argument for the existence of such individuals. And I would not
want to argue that we introspect that the individuals we introspect
are mental.
5. The Argument from Essences
To make my task of arguing for souls easier, I could have taken the
individual to have an essence. To assume essences (ti en einai) is Ar-
istotelian (Aristotle Metaphysica Z). But to assume a mental and a
physical essence is not. It is rather Cartesian. A Cartesian substance
with a mental essence has only mental properties. Starting from the
distinction between mental and physical properties and noting that
introspection presents us only with substances which have mental
properties would lead in a Cartesian ontology to the conclusion that
the substances known by introspection all have a mental essence.
Thus, the circumstance that introspection shows us only mental
properties would support the assumption of substances with mental
essences.
Now, the individuals of my ontology do have essences, but that is
based on facts which connect them with their essences, and essences
are normal non-relational universals of the first order. The impor-
tant point is that essences are not categories. It is for other sciences
to determine the essences, not for ontology. While I would claim
that the distinction between mental and physical properties is a
phenomenological datum I would readily admit that the assumption
of a mental essence is highly theoretical. I advocate such an essence
as part of my ontology and in application of my ontology which
274 Erwin Tegtmeier
involves the claim that there are essences of individuals in the first
place.
I said that the essences are non-relational universals of the first

order, which entails that they can be connected only to individuals.
Hence in my ontology only individuals have essences. Universals
and facts do not. They do have categorial forms, though. Categorial
forms are, in my ontology, different from the essences of individu-
als. Thus individuals have categorial forms as well as essences. Cate-
gorial forms are more closely connected than essences. This could be
expressed by saying that individuals have their categorial forms nec-
essarily while individuals have their essences only factually, i.e., be-
cause the fact connecting the individual and the essence universal
obtains.
What distinguishes essences from other non-relational univer-
sals of the first order, i.e., from other properties of individuals? The
individuals do not change with respect to them. They do not lose es-
sential properties. An ontologically more precise characterisation of
essences can be given if the analysis of change is taken into account.
Consider a mental example: First, someone s sees a person. Then he
remembers having seen that person earlier. Let us symbolise seeing
by P and remembering by R. The soul s changes from P to R. P and
R are incompatible, i.e., for all x, if Px then not Rx. Hence, to analyse
the change, as suggests itself, namely by “Ps and Rs” leads to a
contradiction. The customary way to avoid the contradiction is to
relate the connection between thing and property to time points.
However, that presupposes time points which I reject. Moreover, it
turns properties implausibly into relations. I would argue that prop-
erties show themselves to be properties. The way of avoiding the
contradiction I advocate is to acknowledge inherents of changing
individuals (Tegtmeier 2007). They are inherents by standing in the
relation of inherence to the changing individual. The relation of in-
herence is a two-place universal of the first order. Such universals
hold only between individuals. The relation of inherence has, in my
ontology, nothing to do with the possession of properties. Never-
theless, I borrow the term from the Aristotelian tradition where it
was used to explain the possession of accidental properties. I draw

on Aristotle’s analysis of the possession of properties as a kind of
identity relation. He takes the sentence “the apple is green” to mean
“the apple is (identical with) the green object”. The inherence rela-
tion in my ontology is also a kind of identity relation. In our example
the seeing s’ inheres in s and the remembering s’’ also inheres in s.
The change of s from seeing to remembering is assayed ontologically
thus: Ps’ & Rs’’ & IN (s’,s) & IN (s’’,s), where “IN” symbolises the
inherence relation and s the continuing soul. Since P and R are not
connected to the same individuals no contradiction can be derived
from the theorem of incompatibility between P and R. Inherents
resemble temporal parts and originally I also used the term “tempo-
ral part”. That led to misunderstandings though because the so-
called perdurantists take it for granted that what has temporal parts
is complex and is composed of them. Now, it is an important point
which solves many problems that the individuals of my ontology are
all simple, including those with inherents (and also those with
spatial parts). If the individuals with inherents and with spatial
parts were not simple with temporal and spatial parts, they would
have to be point-like. Otherwise, one could not do justice to the
interdependence between space and time, in particular to the law
that spatial part and spatial whole must be simultaneous. I do not
countenance point-like entities because such entities are not presen-
ted to us. Points seem to be mathematical fictions.
Return to our question about the universals which are essences:
the ontological analysis of change sketched implied that the inher-
ents (which are like phases of a changing thing) have the changing
properties but the changing thing does not have them. It can have
only those properties which do not change. Otherwise, a contradic-
tion would still arise. Now, the essences are those universals which
the changing things have. The inherents have them also. Assume
that ‘being a cognitive subject’ is an essence. Then the s of our exam-
ple has this essence but so do s’ and s’’. The inherents, s’and s’’, and
the individual in which they inhere, are of themselves (without
facts) individuals. That they are cognitive subjects is based on the
276 Erwin Tegtmeier
facts C(s), C(s’) and C(s’’) where “C” stands for the essence of being a
cognitive subject.
Clearly, it does not make individuals mental in the sense that they
are connected only with mental universals that they are connected
with the essence C. One can assume that C has the universal of being
mental. That leaves open that all the other universals an individual
has apart from C are also mental. To make sure that the individuals
which have C have only mental universals it needs a law. In my
ontology laws are general facts. The law necessarily would be the
fact that for all individuals x and for all universals of the first order
U: if C(x) and U(x) then M(U), where “M” stands for the second or-
der non-relational universal of being mental. Laws of this kind are
central to Aristotle’s concept of essence. He thinks that the essence
of an object generates its development. I adopt that idea and assume
the law sketched above. Then it follows that there are souls in the
sense of individuals which have only mental universals and which
never change to non-mental universals. Thus the essences in my
ontology do not generate but they control change.In an analogous
way one arrives at a class of individuals with physical universals
only by assuming a physical essence. Combining the two classes of
individuals a second kind of mental-physical dualism results besides
the dualism of mental and physical universals.
References
Aristotle De Anima.
Aristotle Metaphysica.
Bergmann, G. (1968) Realism, Madison: Univ. of Wisconsin Press.
Brentano, F. (1874) Psychologie vom empirischen Standpunkt,
Leipzig: Duncker und Humblot.
Descartes, R. (1644) Principia philosophiae.
Gadenne, V. (2004) Philosophie d. Psychologie, Bern: Huber 2004.
Tegtmeier, E. (1992) Grundzüge einer kategorialen Ontologie.
Freiburg: Alber.
Tegtmeier, E. (2007) “Persistence”, in C. Kanzian (ed.), Persistence,
Heusenstamm: Ontos.
On Subjects*
Daniel Wehinger, Innsbruck
1. Exposition
We are, each and every one of us, subjects of experience: We see co-
lours, hear sounds and feel pain. This provides us with a peculiar
status among the things there are. The following is an attempt to
account for this peculiarity.
My starting point is the subjectivity of experiences. This feature
renders the relation between subjects and their experiences unique.
It creates the intuition that a complete description of the world in
physical terms doesn’t capture me, since I am the subject of my ex-
periences in a way apparently quite different from that in which
physical objects are the bearers of their properties (Nagel 1965,
353). The treatment of Boër and Lycan’s attempt to defuse this in-
tuition guides me to a discussion of the peculiarity of self-reference,
i.e. the immunity of I to misidentification, which I find inexplicable
apart from self-consciousness. I argue that, again due to the subjec-
tivity of experience, every consciousness involves pre-reflective self-
consciousness. This claim leads me to a critique of higher-order the-
ories of consciousness. I then shift my focus from physicalistic at-
tempts to account for subjectivity to substance dualism and ask
whether this theory is more appropriate to integrate subjects. In
view of Nagel’s critique of substance dualism, I concede that mental
substances, as construed by Nagel, are indeed of no help. I take the
problem of souls on Nagel’s account to be the objectification of the
subject inherent in their conception. Finally, I address the question
of what subjects essentially are. Drawing on the work of Foster, I re-
ject the claim that the essence of subjects, not being objects, is
inscrutable and hold that we know what it is to be a subject.
278 Daniel Wehinger
2. The Existence of Subjects
There are, indubitably, innumerable experiences: experiences of

pain, of pleasure, of colours and the like. These experiences can be
categorized as events, with the differentia specifica of being con-
scious. But what is it for an event, or, more generally, a state,1 to be
conscious? In his influential paper “What Is It Like to Be a Bat?”,
Nagel answered this question by arguing that an event is conscious
if there is “something it is like” to undergo it. He calls this the
“subjective character of experience”, meaning that experiences are
“essentially connected to a single point of view” (Nagel 1974, 437).
That is to say, conscious phenomena are not “simply there” (Nagel
1979, 201), but rather are there for someone, for the subject experi-
encing them (cf. Nagel 1979, 207, 209; Lund 2005, 50). Meixner,
who takes what he calls their “forness”2 to be an essential feature of
conscious events (cf. Meixner 2004, 317), puts it this way: “An in-
stance of pain […] is intrinsically and essentially a pain for someone,
it is intrinsically addressed to someone” (Meixner 2004, 342). In
other words: A pain’s being had by someone consists in its being for
that someone. Its possessor is its addressee.
Hence, it is argued that if experiences are such that there is so-
mething it is like to have them, then there must be someone for
whom they are like something. Therefore, the existence of experien-
ces, as characterized by Nagel, apparently brings with it a commit-
ment to the existence of subjects of experience. They seem to be nee-
ded as the source and centre of the subjectivity of experience, what-
ever else may be said about their nature, ontologically speaking.
The commitment to subjects can, of course, be evaded if the sub-
jectivity or forness of experience is denied. Such a move, however,
appears to be highly implausible, to say the least. For it renders
worlds possible that at any rate appear to be unintelligible, worlds in
which there is, e.g., an instance of pain without anything else, i.e. in
1 The categorical differences between states and events are not of decisive
importance here.
2 For present purposes I use the terms “subjectivity” and “forness” interchan-
geably.
On Subjects 279
particular without anyone experiencing it. This pain “is not a painful
experience for some being. […] There is nothing it is like to have it,
for, again, the having of it is ruled out” (Lund 2005, 51). What it is
for such an experience without an experiencer to exist seems dubi-
ous. If we continue thinking through the consequences of denying
the subjectivity of experience, the implausibility of this move be-
comes even more evident. For this denial ultimately deprives us of
our capacity to distinguish between conscious and nonconscious
events. We lose our grasp on what a conscious event is if we reject
that there is something it is like, and therefore someone for whom it
is like something, to undergo it (Lund 2005, 51). And this seems too
high a price to pay. For a theory of consciousness that is unable to
differentiate between being conscious and being nonconscious di-
vests itself of its topic. Thus, every such theory must seek to account
for the subjective character of experience.
3. Subjects and Physicalism
I have claimed that the subjectivity or forness of experience must be

acknowledged: My experiences are for me, they are essentially con-
nected to my subjective point of view. This provides the relation
between subjects and their experiences with a unique status. For
while it is arguably true that every property is had by someone, is
the property of someone, it seems to be true of conscious phenom-
ena only that they are addressed to someone. The peculiarity of the
way in which subjects possess their experiences, resulting from the
subjective character of conscious phenomena, creates what Nagel, in
his paper “Physicalism”, takes to be strongest intuition against
physicalism. It is the feeling that, in Nagel’s words,
I (and hence any “I”) cannot be a mere physical object, because I

possess my mental states: I am their subject, in a way in which no
physical object can possibly be the bearer of its attributes (Nagel 1965,
353).
280 Daniel Wehinger
And he goes on:
The feeling that physicalism leaves out of account the essential

subjectivity of psychological states is the feeling that nowhere in the
description of the state of a human body could there be room for a
physical equivalent of the fact that I (or any self), and not just that
body, am the subject of those states (Nagel 1965, 354).
This intuition can be put into an argument in the following way:

Consider the most complete description of the world and every per-
son in it from the third-person perspective. No matter how complete
this description may be, “there seems to remain one thing which I
cannot say in this fashion—namely, which of the various persons in
the world I am” (Nagel 1965, 355). There is a gap between the state-
ment that there exists a person of such and such description and the
statement that that person is me. The two do not seem to be
equivalent in content, i.e. they appear to express different facts.
What it is to be me seemingly eludes description.
The same point can be made by considering the mirror image
scenarios that are often cited in this context. Ernst Mach, for one,
recounts that he one day entered the streetcar and saw a man get-
ting in on the other side. ‘What a sleazy schoolmaster!’, he thought
to himself, not realising that the man he saw was in fact an image of
himself in the rear-view mirror (Mach 1886, 34). Such scenarios,
again, seem to suggest that being me is not equivalent to being a
person of such and such description, that different properties are
expressed. Mirror images provide us with third-person information
about ourselves, i.e. they show us what we look like to others. But,
once more, no amount of third-person information appears suffi-
cient to establish that its object is me.
The subjective character of experience leads to a peculiar situa-
tion. On the one hand, it reveals the existence of subjects, experi-
encers, for whom experiences are. Since my experiences have for-
ness, their occurrence involves my existence. But on the other hand,
this forness seems to concurrently exclude my self from the objec-
tive realm, i.e. the world seen from a third-person point of view, sin-
ce there appears to be no equivalent to being me in a description of
On Subjects 281
this world. Hence, the fact that I exist seems to be a further fact,
over and above the third-person facts making up the objective
realm. This obviously threatens physicalism, as Nagel claims, since
the physical “is a domain of objective facts par excellence” (Nagel
1974, 442). As Lycan neatly puts it:
If materialism is true, then human beings are large collections of small

physical objects, and ontologically nothing more than that. It follows
that any human being could be described, and described completely, in
purely scientific terms. Such a description could in principle be written
out by another, second human being, in the third person, and could be
understood and verified by yet a third human being, ditto (Lycan 1990,
109).
In view of this commitment, there have been various attempts to

interpret the cited scenarios in a way that renders them compatible
with physicalism. One of the most elaborated of these attempts has
been put forward by Boër and Lycan (1980).
3.1 Attitudes De Se and De Re

Boër and Lycan create a mirror image scenario similar to that re-
counted by Mach:
Suppose John is looking at what he thinks is a window but what is in

fact a large wall mirror. He is watching a man in it; unbeknownst to
him, the man is himself. He sees a drooling homicidal maniac with a
hatchet creeping up behind the man “outside.” Naturally he believes
that man to be in danger and cries, ‘Look out behind you!’, but John
takes no steps to defend himself, for he does not believe himself to be
in danger (Boër and Lycan 1980, 428).
This scenario, again, seems to suggest that A man satisfying a cer-

tain description is in danger is not equivalent in content to I am in
danger, or, generally speaking, that what it is to be me eludes de-
scription. Boër and Lycan, however, deny this conclusion. They
claim that “attitudes de se are simply attitudes de their owners”
(Boër and Lycan 1980, 432), i.e. attitudes towards oneself are just
attitudes towards some particular, third-personally specifiable, per-
son. It follows that the sentences John believes that he himself is in
282 Daniel Wehinger
danger and John believes of that very person we call John that he is
in danger are equivalent in content. As it is put by Boër and Lycan:
Attitudes de se are “special” in that they contain pronouns whose

denotata are computed via a highly distinctive valuation function [i.e.
the rule that reflexive pronouns refer back to the subjects of the dicta
in which they occur, D.W.]; it does not follow that there is anything the
least bit odd about them semantically. In particular, […] we need not
admit that the content of an attitude de se is inexpressible by any
nonperspectival, third-person sentence (Boër and Lycan 1980, 433).
The standard objection against this account of attitudes de se is that,

in the example used by Boër and Lycan, John fails to realize that he
himself is in danger, in spite of his knowledge that some third-per-
sonally specifiable person we call John is in danger. This seems to be
incompatible with Boër and Lycan’s equivalence-claim. Therefore,
Boër and Lycan attempt to defuse this objection by construing anot-
her scenario they take to be “exactly parallel” (Boër and Lycan 1980,
449) to the one described above, but that does not have the same
anti-physicalistic implications. In this scenario John sees a man,
Wilfred, and then catches sight of what he takes to be a second man,
Van, who is about to be attacked by predator. In this way, John
forms the belief that Van is in danger. What John doesn’t realize is
that the man he calls Van is just a reflection of Wilfred in a distant
mirror. Boër and Lycan argue that this scenario does not justify the
conclusion that Van is in danger and Wilfred is in danger express
different facts. As a result, because of the alleged parallel between
the two scenarios, they claim that the former scenario involving
John and his mirror image does not justify the conclusion that Some
specific person we call John is in danger and I am in danger express
different facts either. Boër and Lycan claim that, since mirror image
scenarios pose a problem for both attitudes de se and attitudes de
re, they do not count against a reduction of the de se to the de re.
3.2 The Immunity of I to Misidentification

In order to evaluate Boër and Lycan’s argument we need to ask
whether the two scenarios described really are “exactly parallel”,
On Subjects 283
whether the problems really are the same. What happens in the
Wilfred/Van case is that John fails to realize that a pair of descrip-
tions in fact applies to the same person: Both the person who ap-
pears to be sitting in the woods in safety as well as the person who is
about to be attacked by a predator is Wilfred. So, John’s knowledge
that there exists a person who is about to be attacked is fully com-
patible with his ignorance that this person is Wilfred. In this respect,
there is a similarity between the two cases. But there is also a
fundamental difference between them, namely that when we refer to
ourselves as the subjects of our experiences we are safe from refer-
ence failure resulting from picking out the wrong referent. I in its
subject-use is immune to error through misidentification (Shoe-
maker 1968). We can identify ourselves without knowing what ob-
servable properties we have. By contrast, we cannot identify others
independently of their observable properties. In view of this pe-
culiarity of first-person reference the alleged parallel between the
two scenarios breaks down. As Madell puts it:
[…] in wondering whether I am the person of such-and-such a

description, whether, perhaps, I could be looking at my reflection, I am
not wondering whether a set of properties I now pick out is the same as
a set I have previously picked out, as I am in the Wilfred/Van case. I
am wondering whether I, that is, that entity which I identify infallibly
and independently of any properties, possess the properties which I
appear to see before me (Madell 1981, 43-44).
This asymmetry between first- and third-person reference poses a

cardinal obstacle to the assimilation of the de se to the de re. For if
attitudes de se were attitudes towards some specific res, some in-
habitant of the realm of third-person facts, it seems as though our
reference to ourselves could fail. We would have to identify oursel-
ves by way of our observable properties, and could therefore no
longer be immune to error through misidentification.
3.3 The Conventionalistic Approach

This objection has, of course, been addressed, mostly by turning the
immunity of I to misidentification into a purely conventional matter
284 Daniel Wehinger
carrying no ontological commitments whatsoever. According to this

line of argument, I in its referential use is tied to the speaker who
uses it by a linguistic rule, namely the rule that it refers to the being
who utters it. This approach is endorsed, e.g., by Barwise and Perry,
who say:
Let us begin with the word ‘I’. A reasonable thing to say about this
expression is that, whenever it is used by a speaker of English, it stands
for, or designates that person. We think that this is all there is to know
about the meaning of ‘I’ in English and that it serves as a paradigm rule
for meaning (Barwise and Perry 1981, 670).
Now, it is certainly true that I refers to the being who utters it. But
we need to ask whether this is all there is to the meaning of I. Can
the self-reference rule explain the peculiarity of first-person refer-
ence? On a closer look, the answer seems to be no. For, as Lund
says, on this approach “the crucially important distinction between
self-conscious self-reference and mere de facto self-reference is lost”
(Lund 2006, 105-106).
This can be brought out by considering Lewis’ two-gods example
(Lewis 1979, 520-521). This example features two gods, one living
on the tallest mountain and throwing down manna and the other
living on the coldest mountain and throwing down thunderbolts.
Both gods are omniscient with regard to propositional knowledge,
but neither god knows which god he is. For the sake of argument, let
us assume that both gods know that I refers to the being who utters
it and that for every utterance of I they know who made it. Thus, if
the god on the coldest mountain says I am throwing down thunder-
bolts both gods know that I refers to the god on the coldest moun-
tain; and equally with the god on the tallest mountain. Therefore,
both gods are guaranteed to refer to themselves when uttering I.
However, neither god is guaranteed to refer to himself, knowing that
it is himself he refers to. For while both gods know for every utter-
ance of I whether the god on the tallest mountain or the god on the
coldest mountain made it, neither god knows whether he himself
made it. This example makes obvious that the linguistic convention
governing the use of I, while sufficient for de facto self-reference, is
On Subjects 285
not sufficient for self-conscious self-reference. Thus, it does not

capture the meaning of I. Only if a being is conscious of herself ut-
tering I, she knows that she herself, and not just some person, has
self-referred by uttering I. The immunity of I to misidentification
must ultimately be explained in terms of self-consciousness.
3.4 Self-Consciousness
Just like the existence of subjects, the existence of self-conscious-
ness can be seen as following from the peculiarity of experiences, i.e.
their subjectivity or forness. Our experiences are such that there is
something it is like to undergo them. But they cannot, to repeat, ha-
ve this feature without there being someone for whom they are like
something. The consciousness we have of our experiences is in fact a
consciousness of them being like something for us. In other words,
it is a consciousness of ourselves-undergoing-these-experiences (cf.
Lund 2005, 280; Zahavi 2005, 15-16; Foster 1991, 215). Every act of
consciousness involves self-consciousness, since we cannot undergo
an experience without being conscious of who undergoes it.
Given this, the immunity of I to misidentification is easily ex-
plained: If my consciousness of, say, pain is a consciousness of my-
self-being-in-pain, I cannot identify the pain in question without
identifying it as my own. I cannot misidentify its subject and mista-
kenly attribute it to someone else.
The self-consciousness in question is not of a reflective kind. It is
not tied to the ability to reflect, to make oneself the object of one’s
attention. Instead, it is the precondition for any such reflection. It is
only because we are pre-reflectively self-conscious that we can be-
come reflectively conscious of ourselves, as is argued extensively in
the work of Sartre, who for one says:
[…] reflection has no kind of primacy over the consciousness reflected

on. It is not reflection which reveals the consciousness reflected on.
Quite the contrary, it is the non-reflective consciousness which renders
the reflection possible; there is a pre-reflective cogito which is the
condition of the Cartesian ego (Sartre 1956, liii).
286 Daniel Wehinger
This claim is supported by a consideration of the consequences its

denial has. For it seems as though we couldn’t be self-conscious at
all if consciousness didn’t have pre-reflective self-consciousness
built into it. In other words, if self-consciousness were the product
of reflectively turning our gaze on ourselves, instead of its precondi-
tion, self-consciousness would be impossible.
This has been shown by way of an argument put forward by
McTaggart (1927, 63). His argument is similar in structure to the
one presented by Nagel, with the difference of focusing explicitly on
self-consciousness. McTaggart takes up Russell’s distinction be-
tween “knowledge by description” and “knowledge by acquaintan-
ce”, according to which “we have acquaintance with anything of
which we are directly aware, without the intermediary of any pro-
cess of inference or any knowledge of truth” (Russell 1912, 46), such
as the sense-data making up the appearance of a table. The table
itself, by contrast, is a paradigm case of something we know “by
description”, as “‘the physical object which causes such and such
sense-data’.” (Russell 1912, 51) This being said, McTaggart unfolds
the following example: Suppose that I am thinking of the relation of
equality and that I reflect on this fact. I thereby form the judgement
‘I am aware of this awareness of equality’. This judgement is true
exclusively of me, since no one else can be aware of this awareness.
But could I form this judgement if I didn’t know myself independ-
ently of any descriptive knowledge gained from reflection? It doesn’t
seem so. For without a description-independent knowledge of my-
self, all I could know is that someone is aware of this awareness of
equality and that someone is forming a corresponding judgement.
But I would be unable to see that both descriptions apply to the
same subject. And even if I were to find out, I could still not know
that this subject is me. Hence, I must be directly aware of myself,
independently of any reflection or description, in order to know that
I am the one reflected on or described. That is to say, I must know
myself “by acquaintance”.
McTaggart’s argument, if successful, shows that the reflection-
model of self-consciousness is flawed. It involves a subject-object
split, a division between that which is reflecting and that which is
On Subjects 287
reflected on. But every object of my consciousness is identified by

reference to its subject, me. Therefore, the consciousness I have of
myself cannot itself be an object-consciousness. I must know myself
as a subject, independently of reflection, if I am to know myself at
all. Without a non-objectifying knowledge of myself, I would be un-
able to recognize any object of my reflection as an object I reflect on.
3.5 Higher-Order Theories of Consciousness

The same line of reasoning can be applied to physicalistic higher-
order theories of consciousness. According to these theories, being
conscious is a nonintrinsic, relational property that a mental state
has in virtue of being taken as an object by another, nonconscious,
mental state. Thus, on the relational view, no mental state is con-
scious intrinsically. Instead, consciousness is to be explained in non-
conscious terms. It is not a basic, and therefore inexplicable, feature
of the world, since this would render it incompatible with physica-
lism.
Higher-order theories come in two versions: a mental state is ta-
ken to become conscious either by means of a perception-like hi-
gher-order state, as proposed by Armstrong (1968) and Lycan
(1997), or by means of a thought-like higher-order state, as propo-
sed by Rosenthal (1991, 1997) and Carruthers (1996, 2000). In what
follows I will focus on Rosenthal’s higher-order thought variant of
the relational view. He puts the main point of his theory this way:
[…] in general, our being conscious of something is just a matter of our

having a thought of some sort about it. Accordingly, it is natural to
identify a mental state’s being conscious with one’s having a roughly
contemporaneous thought that one is in that mental state (Rosenthal
2005, 26).
It is the thought that one is, oneself, in a particular mental state that
makes that state conscious. A thought to the effect that there is such
and such a mental state is not enough, as is emphasized by
Rosenthal (1997, 741, 750). Hence, the second-order state must rec-
ognize the first-order state as belonging to the same subject as itself.
But in order to do so, the second-order state must apparently alrea-
288 Daniel Wehinger
dy be conscious of itself, for it cannot recognize something as sha-

ring a feature with itself without self-consciousness. Furthermore,
the self-consciousness in question must be of a pre-reflective kind,
that is, it must be independent of what the second-order state might
come to know by making the first-order state its object, for if it
weren’t, the second-order state would be unable to see that some-
thing true of the first-order state is also true of itself. Ascribing pre-
reflective self-consciousness to the second-order state, however, is
incompatible with the relational view, according to which higher-or-
der mental states are per definitionem nonconscious. Assuming a
nonconscious third-order state that recognizes the first-order state
as belonging to the same subject as the second-order state is of no
help either, for it does not amount to the realization that the first-
and second-order state belong to the same subject as itself. This the
third-order state is unable to recognize itself if it is not pre-reflec-
tively conscious of itself. Thus, this line of reasoning leads to an infi-
nite regress (Zahavi 2005, 28-29). Since there is no other option
available, the relational view seems to hit the wall. Metaphorically
speaking, one could say it is the attempt to construe light without
admitting a source of light. The failure of this attempt suggests that
consciousness is in need of a pre-reflectively self-conscious subject
that serves as its source and centre, and which physicalism is unable
to provide.
4. Subjects and Substance Dualism
So far I have focused on physicalistic attempts to account for the

peculiarity of subjects. I have argued that the subjectivity of experi-
ence demands the existence of subjects who are pre-reflectively self-
conscious, and whose existence is incompatible with physicalism.
But if physicalism is false, then, apparently, some version or other of
dualism must be true, for given the failure of physicalism, the physi-
cal realm is not all there is to the world we live in. It features not
only physical but also nonphysical entities, and thus has two sides to
it (cf. Meixner 2005, 11-16). However, it is often argued that when it
On Subjects 289
comes to accounting for subjectivity substance dualism is equally in-

appropriate as physicalism. In this respect Nagel’s “Physicalism” is
revealing again. He argues that his insight, namely that no descrip-
tion of the world, however complete, can tell which of the persons
described I am, not only challenges physicalism. It also challenges
substance dualism, i.e., according to Nagel, the claim that I am or
have a nonphysical soul, for, as he says, “nothing in the specification
of that soul will determine that it is mine, that I am that person”
(Nagel 1965, 355). And he continues:
So long as we construe psychological states as attributes of a substance,

no matter what substance we pick, it can be thrown, along with the
body, into the “objective” world; its states and its relation to a
particular body can be described completely without touching upon the
fact that I am that person (Nagel 1965, 355).
What is to be said about this statement? The first thing to note is

that Nagel construes substances in general, irrespectively of whether
they are physical or nonphysical, as third-personally specifiable in-
dividuals. The paradigm cases for such individuals are, obviously,
physical objects. Since Nagel thinks of mental substances or souls in
the same terms as of physical objects, he takes them to be fully de-
scribable from the third-person perspective, too. However, mental
substances, construed on the analogy of physical objects, are indeed
of no help with regard to the accommodation of subjects. They pro-
voke the same question that has proven so difficult for physicalism
to answer in the first place, namely what it is that makes some in-
habitant of the world of third-person facts me or mine. Souls, as
construed by Nagel, appear to be an objectification of the subject of
experience. As such, however, they seem ill-suited to perform the
task of the self-acquainted subject that is needed for pre-reflective
self-consciousness. For even if there were souls in Nagel’s sense, and
even if we could observe them, as against Hume, the consciousness
we have ourselves cannot ultimately be grounded on such observa-
tion, since without an observation-independent self-consciousness,
all we could know is that some soul is observed. And even if we knew
furthermore that any soul so observed is observed by itself, or be-
290 Daniel Wehinger
longs to its observer, we would still be unable to know that the soul
observed is me or mine. Summing up, the consciousness we have of
ourselves cannot be construed as consciousness of some particular
soul, as criticised by Nagel, since souls are objects of consciousness,
and self-consciousness is not object-consciousness, as I have argued
above.
Hence, substance dualism, as construed by Nagel, fails to ac-
count for subjectivity. However, the futility of souls, construed ana-
logous to physical objects, should not be taken to constitute a reason
for retreating to physicalism, due to an alleged lack of viable alterna-
tives. The problem with souls, on Nagel’s account, is the objectifica-
tion of the subject of experience inherent in their conception. We are
led to this conception, according to Foster, because, even when we
feel that we cannot be mere physical objects, we still tend to ap-
proach the issue of what we are “in the shadow of the physical para-
digm” (Foster 1991, 235). Hence, we have a disposition to think of
subjects as nonphysical objects, on a par with the class of physical
objects. As Foster puts it:
We can only investigate physical objects as external observers […], and

insofar as it is framed in physical terms, any conception we can form of
their natures is tied to this externalist perspective. Because the
physical realm has such a dominant role in our conceptual scheme […],
we come to suppose that an objective conception of the nature of a
basic subject must have a similarly externalist form. Thus we come to
suppose that, to characterize such subjects as they are in themselves,
we have to be able to stand back from them and specify how they
would appear to an ideal observer who could veridically perceive their
spiritual substance, or how they would be characterized by some fully
developed spiritual science. It is this, indeed, which, taken to its
extreme, sometimes seduces us into picturing the Cartesian soul as a
parcel of ghostly, but spatially voluminous, stuff—a fuzzy-edged
portion of some form of ethereal protoplasm, which is lodged within
the person’s body (Foster 1991, 235).
Thus, the construal of souls as nonphysical objects results from our

being occupied by the parameters of the physical realm when inves-
tigating ourselves. Therefore, the right reaction to the felt absurdity
of souls, construed on the analogy of physical objects, cannot consist
On Subjects 291
in retreating to physicalism. It rather has to be to let go of these pa-

rameters when focusing on ourselves. Speaking with Foster (1991,
235), it is the very quest for a characterisation of the subject from an
external viewpoint that is misconceived. It is the demand to know by
description what can be known by acquaintance only.
5. The Essence of Subjects
I have argued that subjects of experience must not be construed on

the analogy of physical objects. Indeed, they must not be construed
as objects of consciousness at all. But if subjects are not objects of
consciousness, what, then, are they? What is the essence of subjects?
I will deal with this question in what follows.
The claim that subjects must not be objectified might make it
seem as though what they are is inscrutable. One may feel reminded
of Wittgenstein’s remarks on the “metaphysical subject” in the Trac-
tatus, according to which it is not a part of the world, but its boun-
dary, in analogy to the eye that sees everything but itself. According
to this approach, the subject trying to grasp its essence resembles a
hand trying to grasp itself. Failure appears inevitable, since the ob-
jectified subject is not what is doing the grasping (cf. Lund 2005,
35). Thus, though illuminating everything else, the subject seems
condemned to remain in the dark.
Although such a view is tempting once it is acknowledged that
subjects of experience are not third-personally specifiable items of
the objective order, it is incompatible with the foregoing considera-
tions. Again it is the subjectivity of conscious phenomena that pre-
vents this conclusion. For, as I have emphasized repeatedly, the con-
sciousness we have of our experiences is in fact a consciousness of
ourselves-undergoing-these-experiences. Hence, we are conscious of
ourselves whenever conscious of something else. As Lund says: “My
introspective access to my own conscious states, […] to the fact that
they are something for their possessor, and to the fact that I am
their possessor is an access to myself as subject of them” (Lund
2005, 348). Even if Hume is right in contending that we can never
292 Daniel Wehinger
catch ourselves without a “perception”, used in the fairly broad sen-

se of “experience” (Hume 1888, 252), the reverse is equally true: we
can never catch an experience without catching ourselves. We can-
not be in a conscious state and ask whose it is. Hence, subjects and
their experiences are accessed in the same way. Yet what this access
seems to reveal is not just that we undergo various experiences but
also what we are independently of our experiences. With regard to
this difficult point I again refer to the work of Foster. He says:
[…] it seems to me that when I focus on myself introspectively, I am

not only aware of being in a certain mental condition; I am also aware,
with the same kind of immediacy, of being a certain sort of thing—a
sort which characterizes me independently of my mental condition.
[…] It will now be asked: ‘Well, what is this nature, this sortal attribu-
te? Let’s have it specified!’ But such a demand is misconceived. Of
course, I can give it a verbal label: for instance, I could call it ‘subject-
ness’ or ‘selfhood’. But unless they are interpreted ‘ostensively’, by re-
ference to what is revealed by introspective awareness, such labels will
not convey anything over and above the nominal essence of the term
‘basic subject’ (Foster 1991, 234).
Thus, I do not only know what it is like to see, to hear or to be in

pain. I also know what it is like to be me, to be a subject of experi-
ence. The fact that this knowledge can be gained by being a subject
only should not be taken to call it into question. For the same holds
true of the knowledge we have of our experiences: What it is like to
see or hear cannot be conveyed to a person who is congenitally blind
or deaf. We need to undergo the respective experiences to gain the
corresponding knowledge. Nevertheless, we appear fully justified in
claiming that we know what it is like to see and hear. Accordingly
Foster says:
Both the essential nature of the subject and the character of his
conscious states can only be grasped introspectively—by, in the one
case, knowing from the inside what it is like to be a subject, and, in the
other case, knowing from the inside what it is like to be in a certain
mental condition (Foster 1991, 235).
We know what it is like to be a subject, since we are subjects. Our

reluctance to accept this claim, again, seems to stem from our ten-
On Subjects 293
dency to objectify subjects, to think of them by means of parameters

borrowed from the physical realm. Because of this tendency we are
inclined to believe that if what subjects are can be known at all it
must be known by description. But, as McTaggart’s argument has
shown, if the knowledge we have of ourselves were knowledge by
description, we couldn’t know ourselves at all. Hence, we must know
ourselves by acquaintance. Indeed, we couldn’t form any externalist
account at all if we weren’t acquainted with ourselves. For we would
then be unable to recognize any object as external to us. It turns out
that, in seeking to know ourselves, we were seeking for something
that we had already had prior to any reflection, by being ourselves.
6. Concluding Remarks
The present treatment, as I have said, serves the purpose of expos-

ing the peculiarity of subjects. I have begun with the claim that ex-
periences are essentially subjective, that they are like something for
someone, and then drawn out its consequences. Since experiences
are like something for someone they demand for subjects undergo-
ing them. These subjects consequently appear to be excluded from
the realm of third-person facts, since no description of this realm
seems to capture the fact that I am the subject of my experiences.
Thus, I, just like every other subject, am apparently not a third-per-
sonally describable entity. Furthermore, subjects are pre-reflectively
self-conscious, since every consciousness we have of our experiences
involves self-consciousness. That is to say, subjects know themselves
by acquaintance. Starting out with the subjectivity or forness of ex-
perience, we have come to the conclusion that there are pre-reflec-
tively self-conscious, or self-acquainted, subjects. They serve as the
source and centre of subjectivity.
What can we make of these considerations, ontologically speak-
ing? Physicalism seems, after all, unable to account for subjects. It is
committed to the third-person perspective, and hence cannot allow
for entities that elude description. Therefore, some version of dual-
ism must be true. But substance dualism, as it is prominently por-
294 Daniel Wehinger
trayed by Nagel, seems equally inadequate to account for subjects of

experience. It construes subjects not physicalistically, but on the pa-
radigm of the physical realm. Though unconvinced by physicalistic
claims concerning our nature, it still seeks to picture ourselves from
the outside, from the point of view of an ideal observer, and there-
fore fails to account for directly self-aware subjects. What is needed
is something different: a theory of consciousness that emphasizes
the subjectivity of subjects, that acknowledges their internality and
refrains from externalising them. This emphasis, however, is not
tantamount to rendering subjects inscrutable. For in fact, the
opposite is true: we know what it is like to be a subject, just as we
know what it is like to see, hear or be in pain. The subject of experi-
ence is not hidden in the dark; instead, it is the luminous spot from
which light proceeds, revealing to us the world.
References
Armstrong, D.M. (1968) A Materialist Theory of the Mind, London:

Routledge & Kegan Paul.
Barwise, J. & Perry, J. (1981) “Situations and Attitudes”, Journal of
Philosophy 78, 669-691.
Boër, S.E. & Lycan, W.G. (1980) “Who, Me?”, The Philosophical
Review 89, 427-466.
Carruthers, P. (1996) Language, Thoughts, and Consciousness,
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Carruthers, P. (2000) Phenomenal Consciousness, Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press.
Foster, J. (1991) The Immaterial Self, London: Routledge.
Hume, D. (1988) A Treatise of Human Nature, ed. L.A. Selby-Bigge.
Reprinted, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1968.
Lewis, D.K. (1979) “Attitudes De Dicto and De Se”, The Philosophi-
cal Review 88, 513-543.
Lund, D.H. (2005) The Conscious Self, Amherst/NY: Humanity Bks.
Lycan, W.G. (1990) “What is the “Subjectivity” of the Mental”,
Philosophical Perspectives 4, 109-130.
On Subjects 295
Lycan, W.G. (1997) “Consciousness as Internal Monitoring”, in N.

Block, O. Flanagan & G. Güzeldere (eds.), The Nature of Con-
sciousness, Cambridge: Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 754-771.
Mach, E. (1886) Beiträge zur Analyse der Empfindungen, Jena:
Fischer.
Madell, G. (1981) The Identity of the Self, Edinburgh: Edinburgh
University Press.
McTaggart, J. (1927) The Nature of Existence, Vol. 2, Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press. Reprinted, Grosse Pointe, MI: Scho-
larly Press, 1968.
Meixner, U. (2004) The Two Sides of Being, Paderborn: Mentis.
Nagel, T. (1965) “Physicalism”, The Philosophical Review 74, 339-
356.
Nagel, T. (1974) “What Is It Like to Be a Bat?”, The Philosophical
Review 83, 435-450.
Nagel, T. (1979) “Subjective and Objective” in his Mortal Questions,
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 196-213.
Rosenthal, D.M. (1997) “A Theory of Consciousness”, in N. Block, O.
Flanagan & G. Güzeldere (eds.), The Nature of Consciousness,
Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 729-753.
Rosenthal, D.M. (2005) “Two Concepts of Consciousness”, in his
Consciousness and Mind, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 21-45.
Reprinted from Philosophical Studies 94 (1986), 329-359.
Russell, B. (1912) The Problems of Philosophy, Oxford: Oxford
University Press. Reprinted, 1968.
Sartre, J.-P. (1956) Being and Nothingness, tr. H.E. Barnes, New
York: Philosophical Library.
Shoemaker, S. (1968) “Self-Reference and Self-Awareness”, The
Journal of Philosophy 65, 555-567.
Zahavi, D. (2005) Subjectivity and Selfhood, Cambridge, MA: MIT-
Press.
grant P201860-G14.
296
The Editors
Christian Kanzian
Professor at the Institute of Philosophy, Theological Faculty,
University of Innsbruck, Austria (Phil.-Theol. LFU)
Muhammad Legenhausen
Professor of Philosophy at the Imam Khomeini Education and
Research Institute, Qom, Iran (IKERI)
The editors are also authors of articles in this volume.
List of Authors
Ayatullah ‘Abdullah Javadi Amuli

Director of the Isrā’ Institute, Qom
Mohammad Fanaei Eshkevari

Associate Professor of Philosophy at IKERI, Qom
Ḥujjat al-Islam wa al-Muslimīn Ghulām Riḍā Fayāḍī

Professor of Philosophy at IKERI, Qom
Georg Gasser
Assistant at Phil.-Theol. LFU, Innsbruck
Hans Goller
Professor Emeritus at Phil.-Theol. LFU, Innsbruck
Mahmoud Khatami
Associate Professor of Philosophy, University of Tehran
Hans Kraml
Professor at Phil.-Theol. LFU, Innsbruck
297
Peter Marinkovic
Theologian and University Chaplain at the University of Munich
Ayatullah Muhammad Taqi Miṣbāḥ Yazdī

Director of IKERI, Qom
Ḥujjat al-Islam Mahmoud Namazi Esfahani

Assistant Prof. of Philosophy, IKERI, Qom
Josef Quitterer
Professor at Phil.-Theol. LFU, Innsbruck
Ḥujjat al-Islām wa al-Muslimīn Maḥmūd Rajabī

Prof. of Qur’anic Studies, IKERI, Qom
Ḥujjat al-Islām Abbas A. Shameli

Assistant Professor of Education, IKERI, Qom
Ḥujjat al-Islām Muhammad Ali Shomali

Associate Professor of Philsoosphy of Religion, IKERI, Qom
Matthias Stefan
Assistant at Phil.-Theol. LFU
Erwin Tegtmeier
Department of Philosophy, University of Mannheim, Germany
Daniel Wehinger
Assistant at Phil.-Theol. LFU
Wittgenstein
Christian Kanzian, Muhammad Legenhausen (Eds.)
Substance and Attribute

Western and Islamic Traditions in Dialogue
The aim of this volume is to investigate the topic of Substance and Attribute. The way
leading to this aim is a dialogue between Islamic and Western Philosophy. Our
project is motivated by the observation that the historical roots of Islamic and of
Western Philosophy are very similar. Thus some of the articles in this volume are
dedicated to the history of philosophy, in Islamic thinking as well as in Western
traditions. But the dialogue between Islamic and Western Philosophy is not only an
historical issue, it also has systematic relevance for actual philosophical questions.
The topic Substance and Attribute particularly has an important history in both
traditions; and it has systematic relevance for the actual ontological debate.
The volume includes contributions (among others) by Hans Burkhardt, Hans Kraml,
Muhammad Legenhausen, Michal Loux, Pedro Schmechtig, Muhammad Shomali,
Erwin Tegtmeier, and Daniel von Wachter.
ontos verlag
Frankfurt • Paris • Lancaster • New Brunswick
2007. 248 pages.

Format 14,8 x 21 cm
Hardcover EUR 69,00
ISBN 13: 978-3-938793-68-8
P.O. Box 1541 • D-63133 Heusenstamm bei Frankfurt

www.ontosverlag.com • info@ontosverlag.com
Tel. ++49-6104-66 57 33 • Fax ++49-6104-66 57 34
Philosophical Analysis 33
Christian Kanzian
Ding – Substanz – Person
Eine Alltagsontologie
Fester Bestandteil unserer Alltagswelt sind Dinge. Was aber sind, genau genommen,
Dinge? Wie heben sich Dinge ab von anderen konkreten Individuen? Sind Dinge eine
ontologische Kategorie? Welche Unterscheidungen können wir innerhalb der Dinge
anstellen und begründen?, etwa: Worin unterscheiden sich künstlich hergestellte Dinge
(Artefakte) von Lebewesen? Kann man unter den Lebewesen nochmals eine beson-
dere Gruppe festmachen, die traditionell Personen genannt werden? Was sind Perso-
nen? Derartigen Fragen geht diese Monographienach und versucht einen ontologi-
schen Rahmen zu entwickeln, vor dessen Hintergrund die damit verbundenen Pro-
bleme einer Lösung zugeführt werden können. Der hier verfolgte Ansatz ist systema-
tisch und problemorientiert, nicht exegetisch-historisch und nicht gegen andere
ontologische Zugangsweisen gerichtet. Er bekennt sich zu methodischen Vorgaben ei-
ner „deskriptiven-“ oder Alltagsontologie.
Über den Autor
Christian Kanzian ist a.o. Univ.-Prof. für Philosophie an der Universität Innsbruck.
Arbeitsschwerpunkte: Ontologie und Metaphysik, Philosophiegeschichte, Analytische
Philosophie. Veröffentlichungen (u.a.): Grundprobleme der Analytischen Ontologie (mit
Runggaldier), 1998; Ereignisse und andere Partikularien, 2001; Persistence (Hrsg.),
2008; mehr als 50 Artikel zu Einzelfragen von Ontologie und Metaphysik.
ontos verlag
Frankfurt • Paris • Lancaster • New Brunswick
2009. 343 Seiten

Format 14,8 x 21 cm
Hardback EUR 39,00
ISBN 978-3-86838-057-6
Erscheint November 2009
Please order free review copy from the publisher

Order form on the next page
P.O. Box 1541 • D-63133 Heusenstamm bei Frankfurt

www.ontosverlag.com • info@ontosverlag.com
Tel. ++49-6104-66 57 33 • Fax ++49-6104-66 57 34

Soul PDF

Hochgeladen von

Dokumentinformationen

Originaltitel

Copyright

Verfügbare Formate

Dieses Dokument teilen

Dokument teilen oder einbetten

Freigabeoptionen

Stufen Sie dieses Dokument als nützlich ein?

Sind diese Inhalte unangemessen?

Copyright:

Verfügbare Formate

Soul PDF

Hochgeladen von

Copyright:

Verfügbare Formate

Christian Kanzian, Muhammad Legenhausen (Eds.

North and South America by

United Kingdom, Eire, Iceland, Turkey, Malta, Portugal by

Livraison pour la France et la Belgique:

2010 ontos verlag

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in retrieval systems or transmitted

Printed on acid-free paper

Christian Kanzian, Muhammad Legenhausen

‘Abdullah Javadi AMULI

Mohammad Fanaei ESHKEVARI

Ghulām Riḍā FAYĀḌĪ

Muhammad Taqi MIṢBĀḤ YAZDĪ

Mahmoud Namazi ESFAHANI

Mohammad Ali SHOMALI

List of Contributors 296

Preface of the Editors

Our volume investigates the topic “soul” in a comparative way: Isla-

disciplines. A. Javadi Amuli, M. Namazi Esfahani, and M. Eshkevari

Christian Kanzian & Muhammad Legenhausen November 2009

Praise be to Allah, Lord of the worlds, and blessings and benedic-

I consider your presence and participation in our conference on the

toms of scholarly conversations that contribute to making them

1. The first effect of this sort of scholarly discussion is recognition

than otherwise. Imam Ḥasan, peace be with him, said, “To

knowledge and the scientific flourishing and elevation of the

lars and followers of the denominations, and a tiding of unity

The results and benefits mentioned can be attained in a desirable

A. Dialogues should take place in a tolerant atmosphere with sym-

ness or scientific reasons or on the basis of desires or following the

In conclusion, I will return to what I indicated at the beginning, and

sions of scholarly discussions is better for you than the worship of a

In the Name of Allah, the Merciful, the Compassionate.

spiritual survival (jismāniyyah al-ḥudūth wa rūḥāniyyah al-baqā’),

2. Finding the Path Within

ding of religion will be solved, and the fruits of philosophical effort

3. The Fundamentality of Existence

If what has reality in the world are quiddities or whatnesses, such as

4. The Two Arcs

examples that we have mentioned, the intensity of the difficulty will

to communicate to us self-knowledge, the substantial journey of the

The flaw of perception is this state and speech,

The flaw of perception is this state and speech,

However, a thirst can be produced in a person so that the person

Self-awareness or direct knowledge of the soul is a mode of know-

2. Knowledge and the Soul

First, we need to ask what self-awareness is. Do we know ourselves?

ses external factors are effective. However, self-awareness does not

4. Two Types of Knowledge

Upon discovering self-awareness, we reach a reliable starting point

4.1. Types of Knowledge by Presence

The third type of knowledge by presence is the knowledge that

One of the branches of philosophy that is closely related to know-

ness. Therefore our awareness of ourselves is prior to Cartesian

5.1. The Substantiality of the Soul

The problem with Hume’s account of the soul/self is that if we deny

be accidents without any substance because the existence of an acci-

If A and B have suppressed within themselves all empirical contents

This analysis is not correct according to the Islamic philosophy, for

5.2. The Immateriality of the Soul

5.2.1. The Argument from Knowledge. A material being is not in-

dimension in a physical entity is absent in relation to its other di-

5.2.2. The Argument from Universals. Universals are concepts that

5.3. The Immortality of the Soul