These reports cannot be taken as serious accounts for the transmission of science from one culture to another, for it is not historically possible to have a viable transmission of scientific knowledge that depended on the hazards of finding treasures, and when those treasures were found they could not be read or used except by the very few. For science to flourish, there must be a general infrastructure for it, and a much larger number of people in the society must be able to participate in its production. Otherwise the story becomes a story of a secret magical, alchemical or talismanic science that even Ibn Khaldun, in the fourteenth century had already condemned as an unhealthy environment for the spread of science. While attacking the discipline of astrology Ibn Khaldun asserts that this discipline could not be valid because it could not be published and freely debated in public, and the astrologers had to practice their craft in secrecy and thus could not have a valid science, since all valid sciences have to be practiced out in the open and the full light of day, so to speak.[96]
With Abū Mā'shar's story we are once more confronted with a story similar to that of Abū Sahl in which the stress is on the antiquity of the discipline of astrology. But here Abū Mā'shar adds the twist that the astronomical parameters, upon which all astrological predictions must be based, should also be reliable and of secure authenticity. It brings to the front the importance of such astronomical values as the mean motions of the planets, and stresses the fact that astronomical tables recording these values were composed during the Persian period.
But, like the first legend of Abū Sahl, this one too has a kernel of the truth, for we know from independent sources that such Persian astronomical handbooks existed, and that they were translated into Arabic, or at least were widely used in early Abbāsid times. That there was a zīj, called the Shahriyār-i zīj, or zīj-i Shah, is no doubt true as it was attested and used by so many early Abbāsid sources.[97] There is no doubt, as well, that early Abbāsid astrologers used planetary mean motions that were already preserved in earlier Persian sources. But the question remains as to how these mean motions were obtained in the first place, and the story, I am afraid, does not shed much historical light on that account. Legends seem to indicate the direction of history, but are woefully deficient in explaining its important details. Abū Mā'shar's story is no different.
But it is legitimate to ask about al-Nadīm's intention in starting his own account of the history of Islamic science with these two stories. My contention is that he only wished to relate the opinions that were circulating in his time about the origins of Islamic science, legends as they were. The first story related the transmission of the Greek sciences back to their original home in Persia, and the second simply preserved them there, and gave hints as to how they were then transmitted to early Islamic civilization. In both instances, the discipline of astrology was used as the template for the general history of science, in a way similar to our own undertaking of the discipline of astronomy as a template for the later developments in Islamic science.
Taken together, and with their emphasis on what happened in ancient and more recent Persia, the two stories seem to reveal the eastern sources of the Islamic sciences, or at least point to the direction where such sources could be sought. In all likelihood, that was the intention of al-Nadīm in grouping the two stories together in this fashion. What we should then expect him to do is to move to the west, that is, to the land of Byzantium, in order to complete the western component of the sources of Islamic science. And that is exactly what he did.
The third story speaks directly to the issue of the transmission of the Greek sciences into Arabic. And that is the same story that we referred to before when we spoke of Fārābī's account of the origins of Islamic philosophy. In that account, the important issue was the emphasis laid on the conflict that existed between Christianity and Philosophy. In al-Nadīm's account he tried to confront the issue of the sciences in his own time, and there he posed as a true historian of science who wished to investigate the manner in which those sciences could have crossed from one culture to another. In it he raised very important issues that have to do with the societal factors that inhibited or promoted the transmission and practice of science. He went on to reflect, in a very insightful manner, on the relationship between Islamic civilization and the other civilizations it came in contact with. Al-Nadīm's account reads as follows:
In times past, philosophy (ḥikma) was restricted only to those whose natures could accept it. Philosophers (fatāsifa) used to consider the horoscopes (mawālīd) of those who sought to learn philosophy (falsafa) and wisdom (ḥikma). And if the horoscope of the person indicated that he was from among those who could accept it, then philosophy would be taught to that person, and if not it would not. Philosophy used to be openly studied among the Greeks and Romans before the coming of the creed of Christ, peace be upon him. When the Romans adopted Christianity, they prohibited it, and burned some of its books, while they locked up (treasured) the others. People were prohibited from indulging in philosophical discourse, as it was then perceived to be against the prophetic creeds. At one time the Romans (Rum), meaning Greeks, but here Byzantines) apostatized and went back to the doctrines of the philosophers. The reason for that was that Julian, who resided in Antioch, was then the king of the Romans and appointed a vizier by the name of Themistius, the commentator on Aristotle's books. And when Shāpūr dhū al-aktāf (Shāpūr II) sought to conquer him he was caught by Julian, either through battle, or that Shāpūr was recognized when he went into the land of the Romans (i.e. Byzantium) to scout it, and was captured. Stories vary on this account.
Julian then marched on to the land of the Persians until he reached Jundīshāpūr, where up till now there is a trench known as the Byzantine trench, and where he laid siege to the chieftains and commanders of the Persians. He besieged it for a long time but could not take it. In the meantime, Shāpūr was still kept captive in the palace of Julian. There, Julian's daughter fell in love with him and rescued him. He then traveled across the country in secrecy until he reached Jundīshāpūr and entered into the city. His followers, from among the residents of the city, took heart when they saw him, and went out of their homes and engaged the Romans in battle, taking Shāpūr's escape as a good omen. He then captured Julian and killed him.
As a result the Romans quarreled among themselves.[99] The Great Constantine was in the army and they disputed among themselves for so long as to who should lead them until they could no longer resist him. And because Shāpūr was fond of Constantine, he put him in command over the Romans, and was graceful to them on account of him. He facilitated their exit from his country, after making conditions on Constantine that he should plant next to each palm tree in his country (i.e. Persia) and the sawād (i.e Mesopotamia) an olive tree, and that he should send from Byzantium machinery and supplies in order to reconstruct that which had been destroyed by Julian. He lived up to his promise, and Christianity resumed as it was before. And there resumed as well the prohibition of the books of philosophy and their [i.e. Byzantines'] treasuring of them as is the custom up till this day.
97
For an overview of such literature, see Kennedy, Survey, 1956, and more recently
99
For a more reliable account of this war and its aftermath see Peter Sarris, "The Eastern Roman Empire from Constantine to Heraclius (306-641)", in Cyril Mango, ed.,