Ufuk Topkara – författare

This book engages with the work of Miskawayh, a formative Islamic Philosopher in the 11th century, who is acknowledged as the founder of Islamic Moral Philosophy. Miskawayh’s The Refinement of Character (Tahḏīb al-Aḫlāq) draws from both ancient Greek philosophical tradition and Islamic thought, highlighting the concepts he integrated into what he argued to be the moral core of Islam. This book pursues a comparative study by analyzing and outlining the inherent philosophical concerns of the Aristotelian concepts of Happiness, Justice and Friendship, which are then brought into conversation with Miskawayh’s own concepualizations of them. While Tahḏīb al-Aḫlāq is deeply influenced by Aristotle’s ethics, Miskawayh employs not only a Platonizing interpretation of Aristotelian philosophy, but also incorporates traditions of Islamic thought. The study therefore concludes that Miskawayh is merely a transmitter of ancient Greek philosophy, as shown by both his critical survey of the material available to him and his own critical contributions. Essentially, Miskawayh attempted to harmonize philosophical and religious concepts of knowledge, demonstrating the interlinking of what are perceived as—at times detrimentally—incompatible positions. Ufuk Topkara illustrates how Aristotle’s Ethics are integrated, modified and at times adjusted to the broader narrative of Islamic thought and how Miskawayh’s discourse, albeit philosophical in nature, remains religious in its outlook.Providing clear insight into Miskawayh’s work, this book is ideal for students and scholars of Islamic Philosophy and Muslim Theology.

This book engages with the work of Miskawayh, a formative Islamic Philosopher in the 11th century, who is acknowledged as the founder of Islamic Moral Philosophy. Miskawayh’s The Refinement of Character (Tahḏīb al-Aḫlāq) draws from both ancient Greek philosophical tradition and Islamic thought, highlighting the concepts he integrated into what he argued to be the moral core of Islam. This book pursues a comparative study by analyzing and outlining the inherent philosophical concerns of the Aristotelian concepts of Happiness, Justice and Friendship, which are then brought into conversation with Miskawayh’s own concepualizations of them. While Tahḏīb al-Aḫlāq is deeply influenced by Aristotle’s ethics, Miskawayh employs not only a Platonizing interpretation of Aristotelian philosophy, but also incorporates traditions of Islamic thought. The study therefore concludes that Miskawayh is merely a transmitter of ancient Greek philosophy, as shown by both his critical survey of the material available to him and his own critical contributions. Essentially, Miskawayh attempted to harmonize philosophical and religious concepts of knowledge, demonstrating the interlinking of what are perceived as—at times detrimentally—incompatible positions. Ufuk Topkara illustrates how Aristotle’s Ethics are integrated, modified and at times adjusted to the broader narrative of Islamic thought and how Miskawayh’s discourse, albeit philosophical in nature, remains religious in its outlook.Providing clear insight into Miskawayh’s work, this book is ideal for students and scholars of Islamic Philosophy and Muslim Theology.

“The thread of historical continuity,” Hannah Arendt once remarked, “was the first substitute for tradition." To the historian, the assumed continuity of historical events became an Ersatzreligion of sorts, a substitute religion that rejected not the ideas of tradition and transmission as such but, rather, their unquestioned authority. Yet, while seemingly secular and rooted in culture, the idea, or ideal, of continuity is propagated also by traditional religious groups and forces. It appears as much as a resistance to cultural discontinuities as it functions as a critique of modernity itself. Continuity, therefore, has remained a contested concept not only among modern thinkers, but also with the post-modern turn; here, assumed historical linearities have been brought into question and deconstructed with force. We are rightly concerned about hegemonic continuities and about continuity for its own sake. Why, if at all, should continuity matter? 　 Karl Löwith understood continuity not as an erasure of difference and plurality, but instead as a conscious effort to build invisible bridges in time. “Conscious historical continuity,” he writes, “constitutes tradition and frees us from it.” Is there a legitimate place for continuity, understood in this way, and thus for cultures of continuity, in a world where change and rupture have assumed their own kind of normativity? Can conscious continuities offer helpful insights into enduring debates on pluralistic societies, collective identity, and cultural resilience?