status dynamics in 12th-century Baghdad

Written by Douglas Galbi on May 20, 2012, filed in category social networks

In twelfth-century Mesopotamia, Awhad al-Zamān moved from his small town to Baghdad. He sought to study there with a prominent physician-teacher who had many students. Those choices signal high ambition. Since Awhad al-Zamān was a Jew, he lived in the Jewish quarter of Baghdad and faced anti-Jewish prejudice among the Islamic elite who ruled Baghdad. In particular, the distinguished teacher of medicine with whom Awhad al-Zamān sought to study refused to accept Jewish students. Awhad al-Zamān sought through all possible means to gain a place under the teacher. The teacher refused to accept him. Prejudice against Jews in twelfth-century Baghdad thus formally blocked Awhad al-Zamān’s personal advancement.

Following the fabulistic plot of a humble student earnestly seeking knowledge, Awhad al-Zamān got a position with the teacher’s doorman. During the teacher’s lessons, Awhad al-Zamān sat in the antechamber. He carefully listened and memorized the teacher’s lessons. After about a year, Awhad al-Zamān heard the teacher’s students struggling unsuccessfully to solve a problem that the teacher had presented to them. That was Awhad al-Zamān’s opportunity:

he entered and humbled himself in front of the Shaikh {teacher}, saying: “O my master, with your permission I shall speak on this problem.” The Shaikh replied: “Speak, if you have anything to say.” He answered the question with Galen’s words, adding: “O my master, this question arose on such and such a day, of such a month, in such a year, and has stayed in my mind ever since.” The Shaikh was astonished by his intelligence and memory, and asked where he was studying. Abū al-Barakāt {another name for Awhad al-Zamān} told him, and he said: “We cannot refuse knowledge to one in his situation.” From then on he became more and more closely attached to him until he became one of his preferred students. [1]

This story teaches that earnest desire for knowledge trumps low social status.

Awhad al-Zamān sought social status as well as knowledge. His learning won for him many students and access to the Caliph. However, one day when he visited the Caliph, the Chief Justice did not stand for him as he entered, as others did. The Chief Justice did not stand because he was a Muslim, and Awhad al-Zamān, a Jew, was legally inferior to him. Awhad al-Zamān declared to the Caliph:

O Emir of the Faithful, if the reason for the Chief Justice’s behavior is the fact that I am not of the same faith as he is, let me convert to Islam in front of my master, in order not to give him the chance of underestimating me for being a Jew.[2]

Thus Awhad al-Zamān became a Muslim. This story teaches that knowledge isn’t sufficient for high social status.

While Awhad al-Zamān strove to capitalize on his conversion from Jew to Muslim, it wasn’t sufficient to secure him against the wits of his rivals. On of those rivals was Amīn al-Dawlah ibn al-Tilmīdh, an elite physician and a Christian. The rivalry of Awhad al-Zamān and Amīn al-Dawlah played across religious identifications:

After his conversion to Islam, Awhad al-Zamān used to shun the Jews and curse and slander them vehemently. One day, the matter of the Jews was mentioned in the council of one of the high notables which was attended by a group including Amīn al-Dawlah. Awhad al-Zamān said: “May God curse the Jews!” and Amīn al-Dawlah retorted: “Yes indeed, and their sons too!” Hearing this, Awhad al-Zamān fell silent, knowing that this remark was directed at him. [3]

Status insecurity manifesting in shunning and attacking one’s former group is psychologically and historically plausible. So too is refusing to accept a rival’s shift to a higher status group.

* * * * *

Notes:

[1] HP p. 503. A similar structure of secret learning appears in the fable of Aristotle’s entrance into the King’s court as a poor orphan who had surreptitiously studied under Plato (HP pp. 120-4). The distinguished teacher of medicine was Abū al-Hasan Sa`īd ibn Hibat Allāh ibn al-Husayn. Galen was by far the leading intellectual authority for physicians.

[2] HP p. 506. For clarity in the translation, I’ve changed “for it” to “for being a Jew”. Awhad al-Zamān served Caliph al-Mustanjid bi-Allāh.

[3] HP p. 506. In another incident of rivalry, Awhad al-Zamān secretly wrote a note falsely implicating Amīn al-Dawlah in crimes. When that ploy was uncovered, the Caliph gave Amīn al-Dawlah the rights to Awhad al-Zamān’s “life, property and books.” Amīn al-Dawlah nobly declined to exercise those rights and thus gained prestige. Awhad al-Zamān was banned from the Caliph’s presence and lost prestige. HP p. 489.

Reference:

HP: Ibn Abi Usaybi’ah, Ahmad ibn al-Qasim. English translation of History of Physicians (4 v.) Translated by Lothar Kopf. 1971. Located in: Modern Manuscripts Collection, History of Medicine Division, National Library of Medicine, Bethesda, MD; MS C 294. Online transcription.

Tagged: Ibn Abi Usaibia

Ibn Abi Usaybia’s historical-biographical book enterprise

Written by Douglas Galbi on May 13, 2012, filed in category social networks

Ibn Abi Usaybia’s interest in writing books extended beyond his History of Physicians. He also wrote a book entitled The Successful Astronomers.[1] Medicine and astronomy were closely related in practice. Ibn Abi Usaybia’s book on astronomers probably was quite similar to his historical-biographical reference work on physicians. His book on astronomers apparently has not survived. In Ibn Abi Usaybia’s time, astronomers were not clearly distinguished from astrologers. His book on astronomers/astrologers probably has not survived because Islamic teachers subsequently condemned astrology more strongly and more uniformly.

Ibn Abi Usaybia wrote another book that he referred to simply as Experiences and Morals.[2] His biographical works provided experiences and morals through biography. Experiences and Morals probably was a more directly didactic work that drew upon the material from the biographical works.

Ibn Abi Usaybia planned to write additional books. Ibn Abi Usaybia included in his History of Physicians a lengthy section (54 pages) on Galen. But Ibn Abi Usaybia had much more to write about Galen:

To sum up, there are many stories and anecdotes which will benefit him who studies them, witticisms and examples scattered in Galen’s books and included in reports about him. There are also many tales of his treatment of the sick which cannot all be mentioned here, that prove his medical skill. I intend, with God’s help, to compose a separate book which will include all the relevant details reported in Galen’s works and elsewhere.[3]

Galen lived in the second century. More than a millennium later, Galen was by far the leading figure among physicians in thirteenth-century Damascus. In planning to write a book about Galen, Ibn Abi Usaybia was choosing a popular subject.

While Ibn Abi Usaybia practiced as a physician, he apparently sought to write historical-biographical reference works for all intellectual fields. In the introduction to his book on physicians, Ibn Abi Usaybi declared:

The philosophers, mathematicians and students of the other sciences will be treated by me exhaustively, if Allāh the Exalted wills, in the book Outstanding Milestones among the Nations and Reports on the Masters of Wisdom.[4]

The order of Ibn Abi Usaybia’s biographical enterprise probably was astronomers, physicians, and others (philosophers, mathematicians, and others). That probably was the status ranking of intellectual fields in thirteenth-century Damascus.

* * * * *

Notes:

[1] HP p. 507. Because HP is an edition from 1270, the year of Ibn Abi Usaybia’s death, references to other of his works in it don’t necessarily mean that those work were written before the original edition of History of Physicians (1242).

[2] HP p. 879.

[3] HP p. 164.

[4] HP p. 3. Kopf interprets “milestones” as “personalities” and notes: “Literally: sign-posts, milestones; Sang: monuments. As the book was never written, the author’s intention remains uncertain as to his pointing to persons or works.”

Reference:

Tagged: Ibn Abi Usaibia

Ibn Abi Usaybia in 13th-century Damascus’ status economy

Written by Douglas Galbi on May 6, 2012, filed in category social networks

In 1242, Ibn Abi Usaybia dedicated his book, Essential Information Concerning the Classes of Physicians, to Amīn al-Dawlah, the vizier of the Ayyubid sultanate based in Damascus.[1] Ibn Abi Usaybia’s book is a trans-historical, biographical membership directory for the elite medical profession. It documented the social capital of prominent physicians. Because thirteenth-century Damascus did not have well-established institutions of social distinction, e.g. titles of nobility or degrees from prestigious universities, books documenting diverse and fluid social credentials were relatively important.[2] Ibn Abi Usaybia’s book and other similar ones were valuable products in the highly developed status economy of thirteenth-century Damascus.

Ibn Abi Usaybia rang high notes of praise in the dedication for his book. He described his book as a service to a worthy lord:

With it I am rendering a contribution to the library of my lord and master, the learned and righteous vizier, the accomplished chief, the lord of viziers, the king of savants, the leader of scholars, the sun of religion, Amīn al-Dawlah Kamāl al-Dīn Shārāf al-Milla Abū al-Hasān ibn Ghazal ibn Abī Sa`id — may Allāh perpetuate his happiness and grant him his desires in this world and in the hereafter. [3]

The book was not meant just for Vizier Amīn al-Dawlah’s library. A professional membership directory is meant to be distributed throughout the profession. Being written for the vizier and in his library, however, gave Ibn Abi Usaybia’s Essential Information Concerning the Classes of Physicians authoritative significance.

Ibn Abi Usaybia’s book, which drew upon his status assets and furthered others’ status claims, quickly returned material goods. Ibn Abi Usaybia explained:

When he {Amīn al-Dawlah}, may God bless him, was still in Damascus, enjoying full powers as a vizier, in the days of {Sultan} al-Malik al-Salih Isma`īl, he was an intimate friend of my father’s. One day he said to him: “O, Sadīd al-Dīn, I have heard that your son has composed an unrivaled book about the classes of physicians, for which highly important work many of my own physicians praise him greatly in my presence. I have in my library more than twenty thousand volumes, but none in his special branch, and so I would like you to write to him, asking for a copy of this book.” I was at the time in Sarkhad, staying with its governor, the Emir `Izz al-Dīn Aibak al-Mu`azzamī and taking his orders. Upon receiving my father’s letter, I went to Damascus, carrying with me the rough copies of my book. There I called for the illustrious copyist Shams al-Dīn Muhammad al-Hussaini, who used to do a great deal of work for us and whose handwriting was perfectly proportioned and his mastery of Arabic excellent. I gave him a room in our house, where he copied the book quickly, putting it into four parts, according to the division of Rubu` the Bagdadian. Having had them bound, I composed a panegyric poem to the master Amīn al-Dawlah and sent him all this with the Chief Justice of Damascus, Rafī` al-Dīn al-Jīlī, who was one of my professors with whom I was on good terms and with whom I studied a part of Ibn Sīnā’s “Book of Notes and Remarks.” When Amīn al -Dawlah received my book and poem through the judge he was greatly surprised and extremely happy. He sent me back with the judge a large sum of money, honorary robes and many thanks, saying: “I should like you to notify me of every new book you write.” [4]

The size of the sultan’s library, and the absence of any similar work, underscored both the importance of books and the need for this book. The sultan’s physicians, who surely were included in Ibn Abi Usaybia’s book, praised not that book, but Ibn Abi Usaybia for writing it. The professional positions of the sultan’s physicians were social facts. Documenting them with prestigious calligraphy and an international brand-name book division helped to give those social facts a tangible, enduring form.

Ibn Abi Usaybia appreciated the value of social status. He himself was an elite physician. His father’s intimate friendship with the sultan facilitated the demand for Ibn Abi Usaybia’s book. His book was supplied through an elite official, the Chief Justice of Damascus, with whom Ibn Abi Usaybia had studied the work of another elite physician, Ibn Sīnā. In return for his book, Ibn Abi Usaybia received “a large sum of money, honorary robes and many thanks.” Money and robes were material currencies. Honors and thanks were status currencies. All these currencies had broad exchange value.

Ibn Abi Usaybai continued to augment his book after it was dedicated and presented to the vizier. The Chief Justice of Damascus, Rafī` al-Dīn al-Jīlī, presented Ibn Abi Usaybia’s book to the Vizier Amīn al-Dawlah. Rafī` al-Dīn had previously been a lecturer in law at `Adrāwīyya University in Damascus. Ibn Abi Usaybia had studied philosophy under him there. Ibn Abi Usaybia’s former philosophy professor expressed some minor criticism of Ibn Abi Usaybia’s book on physicians:

Judge Rafī` al-Dīn went over a copy of this book in my presence, in which I did not mention him. He read as far as the passage concerning Shihāb al-Dīn al-Suhrawardī {a philosopher} and was much impressed by it. He said, “You have mentioned him, but omitted others better than he,” meaning himself. [5]

Ibn Abi Usaybia subsequently added an entry for Rafī` al-Dīn. In that entry, Ibn Abi Usaybia declared:

He {Rafī` al-Dīn} was preeminent in the philosophical sciences, the principles of religion, religious jurisprudence, the natural sciences and medicine. … He held seminars for his students in the different branches of sciences and medicine. I studied some philosophy with him. He was eloquent, very wise, and read abundantly.

Rafī` al-Dīn gained prestige and wealth from becoming Chief Justice of Damascus. Eventually, however, he succumbed to a status reversal:

His prestige increased, he became wealthy, and continued in this condition for some time. But many people complained of ways he had committed and vehemently denounced his conduct. Things came to such a pass that he was seized and done to death — may God have mercy upon him — during the reign of al-Malik al-Sālih Isma`īl. Following a quarrel between him and the Vizier Amīn al-Dawlah, he was sent with an escort of vizierial officers to a place near Ba`albekk, where there was a yawning abyss known as the Cave of Afqa. There people were told to pinion his arms behind his back and after doing so push him into the abyss. One of those present told me that when he was pushed, he was smashed by the fall, but it seems that his clothes caught on the side of the cave’s lower part. The people stayed there for about three days, listening to his groaning, which became weaker and weaker, until it stopped and they were sure that he was dead; then they went away. [6]

Rafī` al-Dīn may well have been learned, eloquent, and very wise. Evidently, however, at some point he misjudged popular opinion and his relationship with the vizier. The result was fatal. Rafī` al-Dīn’s death illustrates that even those with highly elite status were not able to establish strong institutional protection to tenure their positions within the complicated socio-political currents of thirteenth-century Damascus. With some prompting, Rafī` al-Dīn did achieve an enduring position in Ibn Abi Usaybia’s book.

Ibn Abi Usaybia incorporated in his book other evidence of the status economy. He reported that Rashīd al-Dīn Abū Hulaiqa, who was a physician to Egyptian sultans, knew of his book. He noted:

When I met Rashīd al-Dīn Abū Hulaiqa, he had already heard that the famous physicians in his family were mentioned and their learning and achievements described by me. He thanked me and was most kind. I thereupon recited to him the following impromptu poem:
How shall I not praise those whose merits
Are known in both East and West?
There shine on their account, in the sky of nobility,
Stars of good luck that never set.
They are men whose rank in learning among the people
You see transcending the high station of the planets.
How many books on medicine they have written, containing
Everything that arouses wonder and admiration.
My praise to the Banū Shākir has not ceased, whether far or near.
I perpetuate their generosity by writing these glowing lines. [7]

By “perpetuate their generosity,” Ibn Abi Usaybia probably also meant to perpetuate their patronage. In 1270, Ibn Abu Usaybia heard from Abū Hulaiqa’s son:

I received a letter from him, which revealed his utmost refinement, wide knowledge, penetrating insight, great affection and abundant goodwill. In that letter he informed me that he had found in Cairo, a copy of the book which I had written on the classes of physicians and that he had bought it and incorporated it in his library. He spoke of the book in glowing terms, which shows his generous character and noble disposition.

Ibn Abi Usaybia’s book described physician’s characters. Ibn Abi Usaybia also recognized good character in persons positive responses to his book. That’s a propitious authorial strategy for gaining acclaim. Abū Hulaiqa’s son apparently had not met Ibn Abi Usaybia in person, for his letter to Ibn Abi Usaybia began thus:

I am a man who loves you for your notable achievements,
Of which I have heard, the ear being able to love no less than the eye.

Ibn Abi Usaybia responded reciprocally:

I answered him in writing, with a poem which I composed in the same meter and rhyme:

Your letter has reached me, beautifully written
And filled with thoughts which shine like the sun,
The letter of a man noble, generous and praiseworthy,
With a benign countenance, which radiates light.
He is the lord and master through whom East and West flourish in wisdom,
A savant encompassing all the sciences,
To whom no gate of noble action is closed,
A generous man, accumulating all kinds of accomplishments,
But scattering his money with an open hand.
 ...
No wonder that, with regard to the sons of Hulaiqa,
I am bound by the ties of true friendship.
To their father I am obliged for many favors of long ago.
So my gratitude is due to them for ever —
To them, who all aspire to lofty aims, but especially
To him who said to me, while experiencing a great longing:
"I am a man who loves you for your notable achievements,
Of which I have heard, the ear being able to love no less than the eye."
May they continue to enjoy well-being and never-failing health,
As long as the great and lofty trees put forth leaves. [8]

This image of a ruling family as a great and lofty tree doesn’t correspond to the rapidly shifting, treacherous, brutal politics of thirteenth-century Baghdad-Damascus-Cairo political circles. Extravagant praise seems to have been a counterpart to intense fear of betrayal.

Ibn Abi Usaybia explicitly used his book to seek a position serving Badr al-Dīn, the leading physician in Damascus. Badr al-Dīn, the son of the Judge of Ba`albekk, was appointed in 1239 chief of all of Sultan al-Jawad Yunis’ physicians, oculists, and surgeons. In 1247, Badr al-Dīn became head physician of the Great Hospital in Damascus. Badr al-Dīn and Ibn Abi Usaybia had studied medicine together in Damascus under a notable physician-teacher. In addition, Ibn Abi Usaybia’s grandfather and uncle lived many years in Ba`albekk.[9] Ibn Abi Usaybia thus had useful ties to Badr al-Dīn. In his book, Ibn Abi Usaybia lavishly praised the highly successful Badr al-Dīn:

An indescribable amount of precious knowledge, extreme intelligence and manly valor was imbued into his {Badr al-Dīn’s} soul by God the Omnipotent. … within the shortest possible time {he} reached to perfection in both {medicine’s} theoretical and practical aspects. He was highly ambitious in his work and his soul contained all virtues. I found him to study with a conscientiousness unmatched by any of the other students, for he never ceased to increase his knowledge, improve his scholarship and deepen his understanding. He knew many medical books and philosophical works by heart.

Ibn Abi Usaybia offered no pretense of objectivity or disinterestedness. He included in his book poetry that he noted he had sent to Badr al-Dīn in a personal letter:

The rising sun was almost eclipsed by the radiance of Badr al-Dīn,
A virtuous physician, a noble scholar, both in heart and soul.
The most learned of men in the medical art, the science of feeling the pulse,
An expert in curing, not by guesswork, but by sound knowledge;
From Hippocrates and "the old master," from the Greeks and Persians {he got his art};
How many are those whom he has restored to health, saving them from the contrary!

Ibn Abi Usaybia described himself as a mamluk to Badr al-Dīn and floridly evoked blessings for him:

The mamluk kisses the hand of the illustrious master and scholarly physician, the noble chief and unrivaled leader, the hand of Badr al-Dīn, may God prolong its strength and generosity, may he double its favors to the good folk who deserve them and prostrate its grudging enemies by the duration of its happiness. May it remain in grace and perpetual favor, as long as the days pass into years, as long as the heart pulsates in the arteries. May God accord the master our best wishes as long as he still feels the breath of life in him; may he well reward him as long as his noble roots still expand and branch out; may he make his praise a continuously fragrant perfume in the gardens of praise; may he adorn his countenance with the perpetually shining and brilliant fame of his benevolence; may he fulfill all our master’s passions and desires, which cannot be fathomed by words or put down on paper.

Ibn Abi Usaybia obscurely refers to a “separation” and urgently seeks a reconciliation in which he is completely subordinate to Badr al-Dīn:

The mamluk ends by expressing his great longing to serve Badr al-Dīn. Had he the eloquence of the master shaikh together with Galen’s prose style, he still would have been unable to describe the depth of his yearnings and the magnitude of his suffering because of the separation. He prays to God the Omnipotent to facilitate their prompt meeting and make it good and beneficial. [10]

Such urgent, personal concern for a relationship would be completely incongruous in a modern biographical reference work. Ibn Abi Usaybia’s Essential Information Concerning the Classes of Physicians, in contrast, is all about social status and personal relations.

Ibn Abi Usaybia’s keen interest in serving Badr al-Dīn may be related to developments in another of Ibn Abi Usaybia’s relationships. Amīn al-Dawlah, to whom Ibn Abi Usaybia dedicated his book in 1242, was arrested and imprisoned in 1245. In 1250, Amīn al-Dawlah was executed by hanging. In a subsequent edition of his book, Ibn Abi Usaybia described details of his former patron’s hanging and the general lesson:

A witness to the hanging told me that the Vizier was clad in a green prisoner’s gown, and his feet shod in boots of a type which he had never before seen on a hanged man. … Amīn al-Dawlah did not suspect what was awaiting him, for Allāh, the glorious and omnipotent, was already engineering his predestined fate, written in the hidden Book. [11]

In the turbulent sociopolitical circumstances of thirteenth-century Damascus, biographical directories of elites gained extra significance as enduring symbolic goods. Gaining a good place in such a book was the most secure social status achievable.

* * * * *

Notes:

[1] For the book and an online English translation, see HP. The Library of Congress’ transliteration of the author’s name is Ibn Abī Uṣaybiʻah. Various other transliterations also exists. Previously I’ve used Ibn Abi Usaibia. Here I use Ibn Abi Usaybia, which seems closer to the most popular transliteration.

[2] Chamberlain (1994) provides an overview of the status economy in thirteenth-century Damascus. The Bakhtīshū` family of physicians served Abbasid caliphs for three centuries. Their marginal ethnic and religious position may have fostered strong intra-familial ties. Religious-ethnic outsider solidarity probably helped the Bakhtīshū` family to achieve an enduring social position among Abbasid elites.

[3] HP p. 3. Ibn Abi Usaybia describes Amīn al-Dawlah as a “Samaritan who converted to Islam under the name Kamal al-Dīn.” HP p. 895.

[4] HP p. 899. Ibn Abi Usaybia evidently allowed sections of his text to circulate before he transformed his rough draft into a luxurious, bound book.

[5] HP p. 814.

[6] HP p. 813. Also previous quote.

[7] HP p. 760. Members of Rashīd al-Dīn Abū Hulaiqa’s family were known as Banū Shākir (sons of Shākir) in honor of the physician Abu Shākir, a celebrated forebear. HP p. 759.

[8] HP pp. 763-4. Also previous three quotes.

[9] The Great Hospital in Damascus, founded in 1154 by Nur al-Din Zangi, was also known as the al-Nuri Hospital. Al-Jawad Yunus conquered Damascus in 1237. Ibn Abi Usaybia reports his name as al-Malik al-Gawwād Muzaffar al-Dīn Yūnus ibn Shams al-Dīn Mamdūd ibn al-Malik al-`Ādil. HP p. 931. The master physician who taught both Ibn Abi Usaybia and Badr al-Dīn was Muhadhdhab al-Dīn `Abd al-Rahīm ibn Al. On Ibn Abi Usaybia’s personal history, see HP. pp. 549, 749, 879, 880, 899, 907, 908-15. Ibn Abi Usaybia reports accompanying his father, who was also an elite physician, on various trips. His father died in 1251. See HP p. 914. Ibn Abi Usaybia has a separate entry for his uncle, Rashid al-Dīn `Ālī ibn Khalīfa, and quotes extensively his sayings. In contrast, Ibn Abi Usaybia didn’t add a separate entry for his father and wrote relatively little about him.

[10] HP pp. 930-4. Also previous three quotes.

[11] HP p. 898.

References:

Chamberlain, Michael. 1994. Knowledge and social practice in medieval Damascus, 1190-1350. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Tagged: Ibn Abi Usaibia

sex differences in close friendships

Written by Douglas Galbi on May 6, 2012, filed in category social networks

Sex is highly relevant to communication and sociality. Sex is a biological reality rooted in more than a billion years of Darwinian evolution. Sex is a salient characteristic of many human groups, e.g. football teams and Women’s Studies Departments.

Define as a person’s “best friend” the other most frequently contacted via mobile phone. Define as the “second best friend” the second most frequently contacted other. These definitions capture the important point that friendships require investments in time and attention. Both time and attention in the real world are limited: you cannot have an unlimited number of close friends.

Like men’s reproductive potential compared to women’s, men’s close friendships vary less sharply across adulthood than do women’s close friendships. Women on average shift to an opposite-sex best friend at age 18, while men do so about four years later. The share of women with a male best friend peaks at 73% at age 27, while the share of men with a female best friend peaks at 70% at age 32. These differences are plausibly interpreted as women seeking and establishing strong opposite-sex pair bonds at a younger age on average than men do.

Middle-age men do not shift their best friendships away from women as rapidly as middle-age women shift their best friendship away from men. The share of men with a female best friend decreases from age 32, but the share remains above 50% for men at all subsequent ages. For women, in contrast, the share maintaining a male best friend drops sharply about age forty to less than 50% by the mid-fifties. From this age onward, a larger share of both men and women have women as best friends. Women’s “second best friend” shifts in middle-age toward men. The age pattern of friendships suggest that a child, predominately a daughter, replaces the opposite-sex reproductive partner as the predominate women’s best friend after age 40.

Compared to women’s lifespan pattern of best friendships, men’s friendships place less demands on social skills. Not surprisingly, men are less active on social networking services than are women.

* * * * *

Source notes:

The discussion above is based on the following recently published article: Palchykov, Vasyl, Kaski, Kimmo, Kertész, Janos, Barabási, Albert-László, and Dunbar, Robin I.M. 2012. “Sex differences in intimate relationships.” Scientific Reports. 2. doi:10.1038/srep00370 See in particular Figure 1. The “average gender” is an average calculated with male = 1 and female = -1. Hence an equal sex ratio is a gender average of zero. The male share is the average gender plus one, divided by two. The statistics cited are based on analysis of a mobile phone dataset for a single mobile phone operator in a specific European country across seven months. The dataset includes about 3.2 million subscribers, 1.95 billion calls, and 489 million text messages.

Tagged: sex differences

skew in Facebook friend-count distribution at various levels of intimacy

Written by Douglas Galbi on April 29, 2012, filed in category social networks

Social relations can can be modeled as a hierarchy of intimacy. Among much larger sets of contacts or acquaintances, most persons maintain only a small number of close friends. A recent analysis of Facebook data found:

although the average Facebook user has 130 friends, they only communicate directly with four of those people in any given week. Direct communication includes likes and comments on their posts, posts on their wall, chat conversations, video calls, and private messages.

People I talk to are always surprised at how low the number is – only four people per week, and only six people per month. What’s more, the majority of people in these small groups remains consistent from week to week – for example, our partner, our closest friends and family.

Facebook data also show considerable skew in the number of friends. Consider Facebook users who have been on Facebook at least 6 months and have logged in at least 80% of days during the past 6 months. Among those Facebook users, consider the number with whom a given user has “reciprocally exchanged communication explicitly directed towards alter at least twice in a month.” The median number of these close friends for a given user is 3, but the mean number is 6.3. Those figures indicates considerable skew in the distribution of the number of close friends. In fact, 25% have eight such close friends, 10% have 17, and 5% have over 25. The volume of communication with these close friends also has considerable skew: the median number of communications per close friend per month is 19, while the mean is 60.2.[*] Similar skew occurs across every level of friend intimacy.

Heterogeneity in social capabilities and differences in friendship investments spread the friend-count distribution. Some persons are better at socializing than others, either through natural or technological advantages. These capability differences support differences in friend counts across persons. But another possibility is differential investment in communication. Text messaging has surpassed voice calls in part because text message requires less relational effort than real-time voice calls. Marking a “like” on a friend’s post requires much less relational effort than comforting a grieving friend. Those with more friends may be less invested per friend, even with a similar volume of direct communication per friend.

Understanding the economics of social relations is important for understanding communication industry developments. Identifying within the friend-count distribution spread the different effects of communication-capability heterogeneity and differential per-friend investment would contribute to that understanding.

* * * * *

Data:

skew in friends and communication by level of closeness (Excel version). For a model of levels of relational closeness, see Sutcliffe, Alistair, Dunbar, Robin, Binder, Jens and Arrow, Holly (2012), “Relationships and the social brain: Integrating psychological and evolutionary perspectives.” British Journal of Psychology, 103: 149–168. doi: 10.1111/j.2044-8295.2011.02061.x

Notes:

[*] Pp. 170-1 in Kraut, Robert E. and Rosenn, Itamar (2012), “Comment on relationships and the social brain: Integrating psychological and evolutionary perspectives.” British Journal of Psychology, 103: 169–173. doi: 10.1111/j.2044-8295.2011.02074.x

assertion of rights in early personal authorship

Written by Douglas Galbi on April 15, 2012, filed in category social networks

A mid-tenth-century Jewish scholar, Shabbetai bar Abraham, called Donnolo the doctor, labored long and hard to produce a book describing the secrets of the universe. In the introduction to his book, Shabbetai asked for blessings on those who copied his book:

May the great peace, the blessings, and the good comfort of Almighty God come to everyone who copies out this book of my studies.[1]

This distribution imperative is like that commonly found in Buddhist scriptures. Copying books was a central practice in the book-filled ancient Islamic world. Today, copying works tends to be associated with piracy, and governments take aggressive actions to punish persons who copy works. However, at least some authors, like Shabbetai, do not consider preventing copying to be in their interest.

Shabbetai did not favor unrestricted copying. He wanted correct attribution and fidelity in copying:

May God bring him salvation if he copies it out in the name of Shabbetai, if he only writes my name unchanged and erases it not from my book of secrets. For then he will certainly be reckoned to have payed me my due, by recognizing how I toiled and moiled with all my might, unsparing of what was dearest to me, and so gained the skill to record and to learn from what I recorded. Is it not meet, therefore, that he who feeds on the nourishment I provide preserves what I have said, and records it as I have written it? Let him act righteously and not despise to learn from the name by which my fathers called me. Let him put away jealously from his heart and not return evil for my good, if he desires to gain blessings from the Lord and righteousness from the God of my salvation. Let him take heed to write this my rhyme and rubric at the beginning, and at the end be sure that he has written exactly the words of this book with its wisdom, for I bear witness that thus do I wish my thoughts to be set down.[2]

False claims of authorship, as well as making changes in a text in the course of transmitting it, were common in the ancient world. Correct attribution and fidelity in copying, in conjunction with urging copying, indicates Shabbetai’s interest in having his personal work become well-known.[3] Those interests tend to be associated with what scholars call “romantic authorship.” Later romantic authors, however, were more commercially interested than was Shabbetai.

* * * * *

Notes:

[1] Trans. in Sharf (1976) p. 7.

[2] Id. pp. 7-8. Shabbetai goes on to invoke God’s vengeance on anyone who does not correctly copy and attribute his work. The plural “fathers” in “the name by which my fathers called me” suggests an expansive view of fatherhood in Shabbetai’s Jewish culture.

[3] Without fidelity in copying, attribution is an acknowledgement of a source, but not necessarily an accurate transmission of that source.

Reference:

Sharf, Andrew. 1976. The universe of Shabbetai Donnolo. New York: Ktav Pub. House.

Tagged: content

bringing professional medicine into ancient Jewish life

Written by Douglas Galbi on March 25, 2012, filed in category social networks

Law was a problem for Jewish physicians 1500 years ago. Jewish law describes God punishing those who do not follow God’s commandments. God’s punishments include physical sickness:

The LORD will smite you with consumption, and with fever, inflammation, and fiery heat, and with drought, and with blasting, and with mildew; they shall pursue you until you perish. … The LORD will smite you with the boils of Egypt, and with the ulcers and the scurvy and the itch, of which you cannot be healed. … The LORD will smite you on the knees and on the legs with grievous boils of which you cannot be healed, from the sole of your foot to the crown of your head.[1]

Jewish law does not state that those who are sick did not follow God’s commandments. Other causes of sickness could also exist. Nonetheless, the brotherly malice that got Joseph carried off to Egypt also tends to cause sickness to be interpreted as God’s punishment.[2] That reduces demand for physicians’ healing services.

Politics was also a problem. Jewish law describes the sick going to priests for diagnosis.[3] Establishing non-priestly medical services would entail delicate professional politics. Moreover, the most authoritative medical knowledge in the Mediterranean world 1500 years ago was Greek medical knowledge. Greek medical knowledge was transmitted throughout the Roman Empire via the works of Hippocrates and Galen. It was associated with worship of strange gods and a wide range of practices not in accordance with Jewish law. Greeks and Jews fought bitterly in Alexandria, a center of Greek medical learning. A Talmudic injunction declared: “Cursed be the man who would breed swine, and cursed be the man who would teach his son Greek wisdom.”[4] How could a Jewish physician benefit from Greek medical knowledge?

Asaph’s Book of Medicines shows Jewish physicians working to make professional medicine acceptable within ancient Jewish life. Asaph’s book aligns with the will of God medical knowledge and physicians’ healing services. In Asaph’s book, the physician serves God and the patient. Moreover, Asaph’s book uses Jewish wisdom to encourage Jewish physicians to study leading medical knowledge, i.e. Greek medical knowledge. Asaph’s book constructs the Jewish physician as a fully professional physician, but distinctively Jewish and obedient to Jewish law.[5]

Asaph’s book begins with an account of the origin of medical knowledge. This account states two causes of sickness among Noah’s children and grandchildren in the time after the deluge. The first cause of sickness, “spirits of the bastards,” is the evil-doing other that the deluge failed to wash away completely.[6] The second cause of sickness, “human transgression and their sinful ways,” refers to God’s punishment as described in Jewish law. Asaph thus makes clear that sickness is not just God punishing a person for disobedience.[7]

God, who Jewish scripture describes as kind and merciful, gave Noah medical knowledge. When Noah’s children and grandchildren told Noah of their suffering in sickness, Noah was sympathetically distressed. He sanctified his house, approached the altar and offered sacrifices, and prayed and beseeched God for relief. God responded by giving the righteous Noah knowledge of medical healing. Noah recorded that knowledge in a book of medicines. Noah’s book was the origin of medical knowledge for all peoples: “the ancient wise men copied from this book and wrote many books, each one in his own language.”

With this account of the origin of medical knowledge, Asaph’s Book of Medicines provides sound Jewish credentials for all foreign medical knowledge. Greek medicine could claim an ancient lineage to Asclepius and Hippocrates. However, in Jewish understanding, there is no God but the Lord, and no surviving human line can predate Noah. Moreover, since God gave Noah medical knowledge, medical knowledge is within Jewish law.[8]

Asaph’s book includes a medical oath that largely encompasses the substance of the Hippocratic Oath. Under the Hippocratic Oath, the physician swears to serve patients and “keep them from harm and injustice.” Asaph’s Oath forbids the physician from approaching the patient with a haughty or vindictive spirit or harming the patient. Both the Hippocratic Oath and Asaph’s Oath restrict surgery, require respect for patient privacy, forbid professional sexual abuse, forbid deadly drugs, and restrict abortion. Both restrict the extent of medical fees. In these practical aspects of ancient medical practice, Asaph’s Oath follows the Hippocratic Oath.[9]

Asaph, however, rewrites the Hippocratic Oath to create a professional covenant suitable for Jewish physicians. The Hippocratic Oath is a declaration of the oath-taking physician. It begins with the oath-taker declaring:

I swear by Apollo Physician and Asclepius and Hygeiea and Panaceia and all the god and goddesses, making them my witnesses, that I will fulfill according to my ability and judgement….

Such an oath would be abhorrent to a Jew. Asaph’s Oath is structured as commandments that teachers speak to pupils and as an affirming response from the pupils. The pupil-physicians respond to Asaph’s Oath’s commandments:

We will do all that you exhorted and ordered us to do, for it is a commandment of the Torah, and we must do it with all our heart, with all our soul and with all our might.

While gods are merely witnesses in the Hippocratic Oath, Asaph’s Oath makes God a central figure in its commands:

Now put your trust in the Lord, your God, who is a true God, a living God, for it is He who kills and makes alive, who wounds and heals, who teaches men knowledge and also to profit, who wounds with justice and righteousness, and who heals with pity and compassion.

The Hippocratic Oath concludes with a conditional petition:

If I fulfill this oath and do not violate it, may it be granted to me to enjoy life and art, being honored with fame among all men for all time to come; if I transgress it and swear falsely, may the opposite of all this be my lot.

Asaph’s Oath concludes with an imperative to please God and be righteous:

keep His {God’s} orders and commandments and follow all His ways, in order to please Him, and to be pure, true and upright.

The Hippocratic Oath and Asaph’s Oath thus differ starkly not in professional practice but in the structure of ethical life.[10]

Asaph’s Book of Medicines aligns Greek medical knowledge with Jewish wisdom. Jewish wisdom characteristically divides humanity into two polar categories — the wicked in contrast to the righteous, the wise in contrast to the foolish. Thus the Book of Proverbs declares:

The wise woman builds her house, but the foolish tears it down with her own hands.

Whoever walks with the wise becomes wise, but the companion of fools suffers harm.

It is the wisdom of the clever to understand where they go, but the folly of fools misleads.[11]

Asaph’s book contrasts the wise and the foolish physician:

A wise physician studies and understands the traditional wisdom concerning the diseases and the pains in all the bones, and the cure according to the medical ethics of the ancient physicians and according to their scientific knowledge. The foolish physician who cures disregarding the medical ethics causes more damage to the body than the disease itself.

The wise physicians cured according to the four elements of the body and knew the power of the roots and pharmaceutical compounds, mixing them with each other according to their coldness, heat, humidity and dryness. Each organ was cured according to the power of the element dominating it. If a physician does not follow the instructions given in the book, he cause damage or maims the body, or transforms the disease into other diseases by curing only the symptoms of the disease. The pains of the patient are changed until he is on the verge of death. Furthermore, the foolish physician so tortures the patient until the latter prefers to die rather than to live with such a maimed body.[12]

Despite its unpoetic, prolix form, the wisdom of Asaph teaches an unmistakable lesson. The wise Jewish physician embraces Greek medical knowledge.[13]

* * * * *

Notes:

[1] Deuteronomy 28:22,27, 35. See also Leviticus 26:16 and Numbers 12:10-11.

[2] On Joseph getting carried off to Egypt, see Genesis 37:1-28.

[3] E.g. Leviticus 13-14.

[4] Bab Kamma 82b. See also Sotah 49b and Menahot 54b. In English, Epstein (1935). Cited from Newmyer(1993) p. 107.

[5] For background on Asaph’s Book of Medicines, see Lieber (1984). Lieber suggests that Asaph’s book was written in tenth-century southern Italy. Muntner favors a sixth-century date. Some material included within the book may be more ancient writings. Asaph’s book is probably the oldest surviving medical text written in Hebrew.

[6] Within the Genesis narrative, the “spirits of the bastards” are Nephilim. See Genesis 6:1-4. However, the specific term “spirits of the bastards” suggests lack of legal relation to God the Father, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. It thus associates the pagan other with a cause of sickness.

[7] For the English translation of Asaph’s origin of medicine quoted above, see Himmelfarb (1994) pp. 129-30. Asaph’s Book of Medicine elsewhere affirms that physicians cannot cure all sicknesses and in particular they cannot heal sickness caused by immoral acts:

In spite of our vast experience and our deep medical investigations, we know that the physician cannot cure all the diseases; only some patients will be healed. Even the diseases that are cured are cured with God’s help. Many people die out of being immoral. They pass away in sloth and feebleness since they have not behaved according to religion while being healthy. The behavior results in disease. When they were sick, they did not consult wise physicians; this was ordained by God. Therefore, they die on account of having been immoral, as they walked blindly in their ways, headed towards bloody acts and did not resist temptation.

Trans. Muntner & Rosner (1971) pp. 235-36 (para. 438). The reasoning here emphasizes (wise) physicians’ professional merit. Asaph’s account of the origin of medicine is closely related to the Book of Jubilees, 10:1-14. The Book of Jubilees dates to about 150 BGC. Segal (2007), pp. 170-4, argues that Asaph’s account depends on the Jubilees’ tradition. In any case, Asaph’s account does not seem to have been translated into Hebrew, i.e. it transmits an original Hebrew-language source.

[8] The account in the Book of Jubilees more clearly explains why the “spirits of the bastards” continue to cause sickness not related to a person’s evil-doing: “they {the spirits of the bastards} would not walk in uprightness, nor strive in righteousness” (Charles translation) or “they {the spirits of the bastards} would neither conduct themselves properly nor fight fairly” (VanderKam translation). Asaph’s account leaves that effect as a rather obvious interpretation, following directly from the first mention of the spirits of the bastards attacking Noah’s children. Cf. Segal (2007) p. 171-2, n. 8. Ibn Abi Usaibia’s History of Physicians, written in thirteenth-century Damascus, provides some evidence of a Jewish claim to the origins of medicine. After reviewing claims for Greek or Egyptian origins, ibn Abi Usaibia notes:

There are still other opinions variously ascribing the invention of medicine to the Chaldeans, the magicians of Yemen, Babylonia or Persia, the Indians, the Slavs, the Cretans, to whom the Epithymon is referred, or the people of Mount Sinai. (HP p. 6)

The “people of Mount Sinai” are plausibly Jews, with the suggestion that different Jewish sects existed. Ibn Abi Usaibia also notes:

Some Jews claim that God, the Mighty and Exalted, sent the Book of Healings down from heaven to Moses, peace be upon him. (HP p. 14)

This tradition of “some Jews,” evidently recorded by an Islamic author, may be an alternative tradition to that of the Book of Medicines given to Noah, or a mis-transmission of that tradition. In addition, ibn Abi Usaibia reports:

One of the Israelite savants claims that the discoverer of medicine was Jubal, the son of Lamech, the son of Methuselah. (HP p. 15)

Kopf’s note to this statement observes, “The Arabic spelling of the names points to oral tradition ….” Evidently by the thirteenth century a variety of Jewish traditions existed concerning the origins of medicine.

[9] Pines (1975) pp. 2-4, 6-7, provides an English translation of Asaph’s Oath and Hippocrates’ Oath. It provides the text for all the subsequent quotes above from those oaths. I have made minor adaptations to Pines’ text. Arabic translations of Hippocrates Oath also called it Hippocrates Covenant. See Rosenthal (1956) p. 54. Thus oath and covenant did not conceptually distinguish Hippocrates’ text and Asaph’s text in their reception history.

[10] In his literary essay The Contemplative Life, Jewish philosopher Philo of Alexandria explicitly describes the Jewish Therapeutic symposium in contrast to the classical Greek symposium. For relevant discussion, see Niehoff (2010). Asaph’s Book of Medicine is a practical rather than literary work. Both works, however, emphasize a distinctive Jewish identity within the Hellenistic world.

[11] Proverbs 14:1, 13:20, 14:8. For similar first-century Jewish-Christian wisdom, see Matthew 7:24-27, 25:1-12.

[12] Trans. Muntner & Rosner (1971) pp. 270-1, largely repeated pp. 20-1. That translation uses “silly” rather than “foolish.” I’ve substituted “foolish” above because it’s within the same semantic range and is contextually more appropriate. That text contains four wise/silly couplets.

[13] Asaph’s Book of Medicines does just that. It includes a translation of Hippocrates’ Aphorisms, embraces Greek humoral medical theory, shows knowledge of Galenic medicine, and includes many medical prescriptions from Dioscorides. See Newmyer (1993), which calls Asaph “an enlightened student of Greco-Roman pharmaceutics” (p. 119). Newmyer also observes that Asaph is a pious Jew and that his selection and presentation of medicines reflects distinctively Jewish concern for the poor and aging (pp. 117-9). Lieber (1984), p. 249, observes:

Among Jewish medical works in Hebrew and Arabic the Book of Medicines is unique in trying to establish Jewish roots in its particular field. Yet, as has been seen, it in no way denies the validity of pagan Greek concepts. On the contrary, it produces Jewish and even Biblical credentials for their use.

References:

Epstein, Isidore. 1935. The Babylonian Talmud. London: Soncino Press.

Himmelfarb, Martha. 1994. “Some Echoes of Jubilees in Medieval Hebrew Literature.” Pp. 115-41 in Reeves, John C. 1994. Tracing the threads: studies in the vitality of Jewish pseudepigrapha. Atlanta, Ga: Scholars Press.

Lieber, Elinor. 1984. “Asaf’s “Book of Medicines”: A Hebrew Encyclopedia of Greek and Jewish Medicine, Possibly Compiled in Byzantium on an Indian Model”. Dumbarton Oaks Papers. 38: 233-249.

Muntner, Sussman, and Fred Rosner, trans. & ed. 1971. The Book of Medicine of Asaph the Physician: Commentary (vol. 1) and translated text (vol. 2). Document 06-501-N-L, Prepared under the Special Foreign Currency Program of the U.S. National Library of Medicine and U.S. National Institutes of Health, Public Heath Service, U.S. Department of Health, Education, and Welfare, Located in: Modern Manuscripts Collection, History of Medicine Division, National Library of Medicine, Bethesda, MD; MS C 294.

Newmyer, Stephen. 1993. “Asaph the Jew and Greco-Roman pharmaceutics.” Pp. 107-120 in Jacob, Irene, and Walter Jacob. 1993. The Healing past: pharmaceuticals in the biblical and rabbinic world. Leiden: E.J. Brill.

Niehoff, Maren R. 2010. “The symposium of Philo’s Therapeutae: Displaying Jewish Identity in an Increasingly Roman World.” Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies. 50 (1): 95-116.

Pines, Shlomo. 1975. The oath of Asaph the physician and Yoḥanan ben Zabda: its relation to the Hippocratic Oath and the Doctrina Duarum Viarum of the Didachē. Jerusalem: Israel Academy of Sciences and Humanities.

Rosenthal, Franz. 1956. “An ancient commentary on the Hippocratic Oath.” Bulletin of the History of Medicine. 30(1): 52-87.

Segal, Michael. 2007. The book of Jubilees: rewritten Bible, redaction, ideology and theology. Leiden: Brill.

VanderKam, James C. 1989. The Book of Jubilees. Lovanii: E. Peeters.

Tagged: Asaph

sun and moon in Hebrew medical astrology

Written by Douglas Galbi on March 18, 2012, filed in category social networks

The relative importance of the sun and moon in determining dates bitterly divided Jews two thousand years ago. The Qumran Jewish community that collected the Dead Sea Scrolls favored the sun. Other Jews favored the moon. The moon’s proponents prevailed.[1] Today’s Jewish calendar is thus organized around lunar months, with adjustments made to preserve the position of lunar months within the solar year.

Medical astrology in an ancient Hebrew medical work suggests that disputes about the relative importance of the sun and moon endured for many centuries. Hebrew medical astrology, like Galenic medical astrology, concerns primarily the medical significance of the lunar cycle.[2] However, medical astrology in an ancient Hebrew medical encyclopedia called Asaph’s Book of Medicines largely ignores the moon. Asaph’s Book of Medicines follows Hippocrates in directing attention to the seasons.[3] It goes beyond Hippocrates to associate signs of the zodiac with months and to give medical prescriptions for each month of the year. Asaph’s Book of Medicines, which appears to be a pseudo-epigraphical compilation written before 1200, seems to preserve implicitly a claim to the predominate importance of the sun compared to the moon.[4]

In lunar-solar orientation, most medieval Hebrew medical astrology differs strikingly from Asaph’s medical astrology. David ben Yom Tov’s fourteenth-century Kelal Qatan is the “most detailed and extensive original Hebrew treatise on astrological medicine surviving in Hebrew literature.”[5] In this work, and in an important tenth-century Hebrew source for it, the moon is the chief astrological indicator:

If you want to administer a foodstuff or potion in order to purge <the body of a patient>, do so when the Moon is in a sign similar to the humor which you want to expel. For instance, if you want to expel yellow bile, do so when the Moon is in <one of> fiery signs, namely, Aries, Leo, and Sagittarius. And black bile, when the Moon is in <one of> the earthy signs except for Capricorn, namely Taurus and Virgo. If you want to expel phlegm, do so when the Moon is in <one of> the watery signs, namely Cancer, Scorpio and Pisces. And if you want to expel blood, i.e., to perform bloodletting, do so when the moon is in one of the airy signs, namely, Gemini, Libra and Aquarius.[6]

Humoralism is ancient medical theory that Hippocrates is thought to have systematized. It links health to the balance among four humors: yellow bile, black bile, phlegm, and blood. Babylonian astronomers used signs of the zodiac by the middle of the first mellenium BGC. Ptolemy’s Tetrabiblos in the second century GC helped to make signs of the zodiac a standard element in astrological reasoning. To make medical prescriptions, Kelal Qatan combines these standard elements with the moon’s trajectory.

In contrast to Kelal Qatan, medical astrology in Asaph’s Book of Medicines combines humoralism and signs of the zodiac with the sun. Medical astrology is only a small component of the latter work, but clearly recognizable within it:

The first month of the year in which falls the first holyday and the first season is Nissan. Its sign is Aries; it is the first sign of the zodiac as is called Bahmin in Persian; this month is also the beginning of spring and the beginning of the periods, namely the Nissan period. … This period is one quarter of the year and consists of three months. It contains the following signs of the zodiac: Aries in Nissan, Taurus in Iyar, and Gemini in Sivan. … The sages of Persia said the following: …when the plants begin to blossom and the sun is in the Aries constellation, namely in Nissan (called Bahmin Mah in Persian). Then the physicians begin to administer various drugs and to give enemas in order to calm the body and let it rest; they prescribe the drug called Stomachikon or Akindinon in order to put out the flame of the red humor kindled by the heat of the blood. People governed by the black humor should not stop taking drugs in order to alleviate the power of the black humor and prevent illnesses. They should first drink a drug called pentaeidos, which is made from five ingredients: cuscusta epithymum, Polyporus officinale, Citrullus colocynthis, Aloe, and Convolvulus scammonia; all these ingredients … . [7]

Asaph’s Book of Medicines contains traces of ancient Egyptian, Greek, Indian, Persian, and Syriac elements. Within this work, a second version of the above text strips out the Persian references, eliminates the signs of the zodiac, and shifts the start of the year from that of the religious calendar (first month is Nissan) to that of the civil calendar (first month is Tishrei). But it retains humoralism, solar orientation, and similar medical prescriptions:

18) The seventh month is Nissan. The length of its days is thirteen hours and the length of its nights — eleven hours. In this month, the plants bud and blossom. People should beware not to eat the roots of vegetables which are plucked from the ground, because they are bad for people who eat them during all this month. People who eat them a lot during this month will be overcome by the phlegm and blood and will suffer from tonsillitis and other diseases.

19) People suffering from these disorders should drink the drug called Theodoritos the Great, once a week up to three times; this will cure them, with God’s help.

20) People governed by the black humor should take the following drug: seven shekels of Cuscuta epithymum, three shekels of Myrobalani cetrini, three skekels of Myrobalani bellerica … Then, take one quarter of a shekel crushed Polyporus officinalis, one quarter of a shekel Convolvulus scammonia and add them to the above mentioned extract; all this should be heated on the fire and given to the patient early in the morning; this is the choice drug against the black humor.

21) If the patient is ill on account of the red humor, let him drink in this month Akindinon or Stomachicon, or Panditon (Pentiron) (one shekel); this will cure him, with God’s help. [8]

Asaph’s Book of Medicine includes such accounts for every month of the year. Perhaps indicating the importance of astrology in this book’s sources, it refers several times to Asaph with an epithet derived from the Hebrew word for moon. The epithet is thought to mean astronomer, astrologer, or medical astrologer.[9] Asaph’s epithet thus roots the main tree of Hebrew medical astrology.

Despite that linguistic root, Asaph’s Book of Medicines scarcely considers the moon as an indicator for medical treatment. The work considers recurring malarial fevers. These fevers drove interest in analysis of critical days and lunar effects.[10] Asaph’s book, however, considers without reference to the moon the treatment of recurring malarial fevers. Lunar analysis linked to medicine appears only in brief remarks relating phases of the moon to attacks of madness.[11] Asaph’s medical astrology is not rooted in lunar analysis.

Asaph’s solar orientation doesn’t merely reflect a longer time span of concern for illnesses and medicine. Consider Palladius’ commentary on a Hippocratic aphorism:

Hippocrates wished to inform us that the critical days follow the course of the moon, on account of the swiftness of the moon, just as prolonged illnesses follow the sun, on account of the sun’s slowness. So, just like the crises of prolonged illnesses occur with the changeovers of the four parts of the year, so also the crises in acute diseases occur in each quarter of the moon’s waxing and the completion of its illumination.[12]

Four quarters of the year correspond roughly to seasons. Seasons are a recognized temporal concern in Hippocrates. Months of the year are a different temporal unit that Hippocrates does not consider. Moreover, Asaph’s book observes:

The course of all diseases is analogical to the daily course of the sun. The beginning of every disease is very hard, and so is the end of every disease. However, the middle of the period of disease is the worst, like the heat of the sun at noon. In the morning, it goes to the west but is not yet hot; in the evening, as the sun sets, its heat is burning; however, the heat of the sun at noon is worse than both. As the sun sets, its heat subsides. So is the course of diseases. In the beginning and end they are severe, but in the middle they are worse than both in the beginning and end. [13]

The daily movement of the sun describes a faster course than that of the moon. Asaph’s preference for the sun doesn’t correspond to a perception of the sun’s slowness. Asaph’s medical astrology seems generally oriented to the sun rather than to the moon.

Linking conceptually the Qumran community to Asaph’s Book of Medicines is plausible. At least two expressions and two instances of unusual vocabulary connect the Qumran community’s Dead Sea Scrolls with Asaph’s Book of Medicines.[14] Calendar diversity existed: some tenth-century Jews used a different lunar calendar than did other Jews.[15] Diversity in primary sources as well as interpreters also existed: a Jewish Biblical canon did not emerge until after the destruction of the Second Temple in 70 GC.[16] Moreover, Jews continued to use scripture written in Greek through to the sixteenth century.

Asaph’s Book of Medicines appears to be a rough compilation, preserving some ancient text aggregated with more recent text. It seems to have been intended for practical medical use. This unusual work apparently has been at the margins of Jewish intellectual life through later than 1200 GC. Jews who persisted in asserting solar primacy long after the Qumran community had disappeared are plausible compilers for Asaph’s Book of Medicines.

* * * * *

Notes:

[1] Wise, Abegg, & Cook (2005) pp. 25, 379-85. Id p. 384 observes:

Calendar wars can be vicious, and they are irresistibly divisive. How can people compromise on whether today or two days from now is the Day of Atonement? Easter may be this week or two weeks away, but one cannot split the difference and celebrate it next week.

Embrace of a particular, distinctive solar calendar unites the diverse Dead Sea Scrolls. In addition to the Qumran community, a community of Jews just outside Alexandria 2000 years ago (the Therapeutae) also used a distinctive solar calendar. So too did the Jewish authors of Jubilees and 1 Enoch. See Taylor (2003) Ch. 7.

[2] Ben Yom Tov et al (2005) pp. 2, 18. Galen, On Critical Days, Book III, concerns lunar medical astrology. See Galenus, Hunayn & Cooper (2011). Ben Yom Tov et al (2005), pp. 2-15, provides a historical sketch of medical astrology and observes, “Astrology was an interesting feature, but not at all prominent element, in the corpus of Hebrew and Judaeo-Arabic medical writing.” Id. p. 1. Astrology appears to have been a highly valued element of ancient Islamic medicine.

[3] Hippocrates, Aphorisms, Section III, concerns the effects of seasons. Asaph’s Book of Medicines contains a translation of Hippocrates’ Aphorisms.

[4] On Asaph’s Book of Medicines (Sefer Refuot), see Lieber (1984). That study notes “the virtual absence of astrology in the work.” Id. pp. 238, 247. Scharback (2010), p. 117, in contrast, declares the work has “strong astrological associations.” Cf. above. The earliest indubitable reference to Asaph’s Book of Medicines is about 1200, while the oldest manuscripts probably date from the twelfth or early thirteenth century. Id. 238. The work itself places Asaph between Hippocrates and Dioscorides; if that’s a chronological ordering, then some of the text dates between the fifth century BGC and the first century GC. A Mishnaic story refers to the suppression of a Book of Medicines by King Hezekia, a king of Judah reigning in the late eighth and early seventh centuries BGC. Id. pp. 237, 233. Muntner & Rosner (1971), which favors dating Asaph’s book to the sixth century GC, notes in its preface, “According to the manuscript in the British Museum, the Book of Asaph was re-edited by Donnolo (10th century) who also added new translations from original Greek sources.” Asaph’s book doesn’t show any influence from well-developed ancient Islamic medical literature. Plausible dating for Asaph’s book is from the sixth to the tenth centuries GC. It’s probably the oldest surviving medical work written in Hebrew.

[5] Ben Yom Tov et al (2005) p. ix. David ben Yom Tov, who is almost surely not the Portuguese Jew David ben Yom Tov ibn Bilia, probably lived in Provence or Catalonia. He was either the father or son of the astronomer Jacob ben David Po’el ben Yom Tov Po’el (Bonjorn). He wrote Kelal Qatan in the first half of the fourteenth century. Id. p. 15.

[6] Id. p. 87 (source text para. 37). The most important source for Kelal Qatan is Abraham Ibn Ezra’s twelfth-century The Book of Luminaries (Sefer ha-Me’orot). It also has a lunar astrological orientation.

[7] Asaph’s Book of Medicines, trans. Muntner & Rosner (1971) pp. 34-6. Red humor here is probably a mistranslation of Hippocrates’ yellow bile. On the first month of the year being Nissan in the Jewish religious calendar, see Exodus 12:1-28. While drift is a major issue for lunar calendars, the months of the Jewish calendar described in Asaph’s book apparently don’t drift through the solar year:

Summer begins on the twenty-fourth day of the month of Sivan, and lasts till the twenty-forth day of Elul. After the latter date, the day and the night are of equal length. Then, the night becomes longer at the expense of the day, until the twenty-fourth day of the month of Tevet. On this day, the night attains its full and is the longest of the whole year; the day of this date is the shortest.

Id. pp. 19-20.

[8] Id. pp. 105-7.

[9] Pines (1975) p. 251, n. 96. Asaph, Asaph’s teaching colleague Yohanan ben Zabda (John son of Zebedee), and a Yehuda also mentioned in the text are all named with the epithet astronomer / astrologer. In addition, Asaph is called “Asaph the Sage,” “Asaph the Physician,” “Asaph the Jew,” and “Asaph, son of Berechiah the astronomer.” For the last, see Muntner & Rosner (1971) p. 194.

[10] Muntner & Rosner (1971) p. 29. Langermann (2008) p. 99.

[11] According to Asaph’s Book of Medicines, “madness attacks the individual at fixed times, be it every full moon, or at the beginning of the month or at its end.” Muntner & Rosner (1971) p. 15. This lunar reference probably reflects folk wisdom, rather than astrological scholarship.

[12] Trans. Langermann (2008) p. 116. Palladius was a sixth-century commenter on Hippocrates.

[13] Muntner & Rosner (1971) pp. 197-8.

[14] Pines (1975), p. 237 (Community Rule,1QS); p. 240 (the Damascas Document, 4Q266-272), and Appendix IV (vocabulary). One plausible, but not compelling, etymology derives Essene from an Aramaic word for “healers.” See Beall (1988) p. 36. The account of the origin of medicine in Asaph’s book apparently comes from a Jubilees / Noahic tradition. Jubilees texts occur relatively frequently among the Dead Sea Scrolls. Jubilees uses a solar calendar.

[15] Abū Rayhān al-Bīrūnī’s The Remaining Signs of Past Centuries, written in 1000 GC, identifies the group as Maghrebi Jews and notes that their practice “stands in opposition to the custom of the majority of the Jews.” See trans. Sachau (1879) p. 278. Wise, Abegg, & Cook (2005) p. 383, which cites this reference, states that al-Bīrūnī called the Jewish sect the “cave dwellers.” I haven’t been able to find that in al-Bīrūnī’s text.

[16] Stone (2011) Ch. 5.

References:

Beall, Todd S. 1988. Josephus’ description of the Essenes illustrated by the Dead Sea scrolls. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Ben Yom Tov, David, Gerrit Bos, Charles Burnett, and Y. Tzvi Langermann. 2005. Hebrew medical astrology: David Ben Yom Tov, Kelal qaṭan : original Hebrew text, medieval Latin translation, modern English translation. Philadelphia: American Philosophical Society.

Bīrūnī, Abu-’r-Raiḥān Muḥammad Ibn-Aḥmad al-, and Eduard Sachau. 1879. The chronology of ancient nations: an English version of the Arabic text of the Athâr-ul-bâkiya of Albîrûnî or Vestiges of the past. London: Allen.

Galenus, Claudius, Ḥunayn Ibn Isḥāq al-ʻIbādī, and Glen M. Cooper. 2011. Galen, De diebus decretoriis, from Greek into Arabic: a critical edition, with translation and commentary, of Ḥunayn Ibn Isḥāq, Kitāb ayyām al-buḥrān. Farnham: Ashgate.

Langermann, Y. Tzvi. 2008. “The Astral Connections of Critical Days. Some Late Antique Sources Preserved in Hebrew and Arabic.” Pp. 99-117 in Akasoy, Anna, Charles Burnett, and Ronit Yoeli-Tlalim. 2008. Astro-Medicine: astrology and medicine, East and West. Firenze: SISMEL edizioni del Galluzzo.

Scharbach, Rebecca 2010. “The Rebirth of a Book: Noachic Writing in Medieval and Renaissance Europe.” Pp. 113-36 in Stone, Michael E., Aryeh Amihay, and Vered Hillel. 2010. Noah and his book(s). Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature.

Stone, Michael E. 2011. Ancient Judaism: new visions and views. Grand Rapids, Mich: W.B. Eerdmans Pub. Co.

Taylor, Joan E. 2003. Jewish women philosophers of first-century Alexandria: Philo’s “Therapeutae” reconsidered. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Wise, Michael Owen, Martin G. Abegg, and Edward M. Cook. 2005. The Dead Sea scrolls: a new translation. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco.

Tagged: Asaph, astrology

translation of Indian texts into Arabic under the Abbasids

Written by Douglas Galbi on March 4, 2012, filed in category social networks

Particular personal relations facilitated the movement of texts from India into the ancient Islamic world. Abbasid Caliph al-Mahdi, who reigned from 775-785, took as one of his wives a slave-girl from Yemen, al-Khayzuran. She acquired considerable courtly power and built political alliances with the Barmakids. The Barmakids were a family that came from high-ranking Buddhist priests in the ancient city of Balkh in present-day northern Afghanistan. When Hārūn al-Rashīd became caliph in 786, he appointed as his vizier Yahya ibn Khalid of the Barmakids. Yahya invited Indian scholars to Baghdad and encouraged the translation of Indian texts into Arabic.

Indian texts commonly were first translated into Persian and then into Arabic. In the sixth century, a Persian scholar translated the Panchatantra, an Indian wisdom book, for the Persian King Anushirvan. In the eighth century, Caliph al-Mansūr‘s scribe translated it into Arabic.[1] During al-Rashīd’s caliphate, the Indian physician and philosopher Manka translated into Persian an Indian text, “On Poisons.” That text apparently was part of the Arthasastra, an ancient text attributed to the Indian scholar Chāṇakya (c. 350–283 BGC). Yahya ibn Khalid then arranged to have the Persian version translated into Arabic.[2] The Persian physician al-Rāzī drew extensively on Indian medical works.[3] Al-Rāzī’s work, in turn, was highly influential in the ancient Islamic world.

When the Barmakids fell from courtly power in 803, the appointment of Indian scholars in Baghdad stopped.[4] The Bakhtishu, who retained courtly influence, were proponents of Greek scholarship. The shift in political power from the Barmakids to the Bakhtishu probably produced a shift in scholarly investment from Indian thought to Greek thought. Nonetheless, in eleventh-century Granada in present-day southern Spain, a prominent Arabic geometrician drew up astronomical tables “according to one of the Indian systems, known as Sindhind.”[5]

* * * * *

Notes:

[1] HP p. 531. The book, titled “Kalila wa-Dimna” in English transliteration of the Arabic, is of the “mirrors for princes” genre. The Persian physician-scholar Barzawaih (Borzūya) translated it from Sanskrit into Persian. `Abd Allāh ibn al-Muqaffa`, al-Mansūr‘s scribe, translated it from Persian into Arabic. Zakeri (2004) p. 184 indicates that it was also translated from Persian into Syriac.

[2] HP p. 602. Khan (1981) p. 51. Manka was associated with Ishāq ibn Sulayman ibn Alī, the Hashemite. Hashemites were from Arabia. Ibn Abi Usaibia’s sources for information about Manka included a book “Of Caliphates and Barmakids.” That source is further evidence of the connection between the Barmakids and India.

[3] HP p. 601. In addition, the Persian-Arabic physician Ali ibn Sahl Rabban al-Tabari published in 850 an encyclopedia of medicine (Kitab Firdous al-Hikmah) that included in an appendix a review on Indian medicine based on translations of Indian texts into Persian and Arabic.

[4] Khan (1981) p. 54.

[5] HP p. 618. Other Arabic scholars referred to “Indian calculus,” which apparently was a type of arithmetic.

References:

Khan, M. S. 1981. “An Arabic Source for the History of Ancient Indian Medicine.” Indian Journal of History of Science, 16(1) (May) pp. 47-56.

Zakeri, Mohsen. 2004. “Ādāb al-falāsifa: The Persian content of an Arabic collection of aphorisms.” Mélanges de l’Université Saint-Joseph, vol. 57, pp. 173-190.

Tagged: Ibn Abi Usaibia

the ancient Library of Alexander’s tribute to knowledge

Written by Douglas Galbi on February 5, 2012, filed in category social networks

While the ancient Library of Alexander represents the dream of collecting and sharing knowledge, true information about the library has scarcely survived. Whether Ptolemy I or Ptolemy II founded the library is highly uncertain.[1] The reign of these rulers spanned from 323 to 246 BGC. The Library of Alexandria’s destruction is known no better than its founding. Some records indicate that Julius Caesur set fire to the libary in 48 BGC during a battle in Alexandria. Others indicate that Aurelian destroyed the library in his conquest of Alexandria in 273 GC, that a mob of Christian monks destroyed the library in 391 GC, or that `Amr ibn al-`As had its books burned to fuel public baths after his conquest of Alexandria in 642 GC.[2]

True information about the size of the ancient Library of Alexandria’s book collection is also scarce. By the fourth century GC, ancient writers thought that the Library of Alexandria had been enormous. One noted, “the unanimous testimony of ancient records declares that 700,000 volumes, brought together by the unremitting energy of the Ptolemaic kings, were burned in the Alexandrine war.”[3] A variety of ancient and modern works put the size of the libary about 500,000 books. However, some ancient sources indicate a size about 50,000. Moreover, different manuscripts of the same ancient work transmit collection sizes that differ by a factor of ten.[4]

Calculations based on ancient Greek authorship suggest that claims of 500,000 or more rolls don’t deserve the credibility that they have received. Words attributed to 450 authors writing in Greek before the end of the fourth century BGC have survived to the present. Words attributed to another 175 authors writing in Greek in the third century BGC have also survived. Assuming that the Library of Alexandria collected on average 25 rolls for each of these authors implies a total of about 16,000 rolls. Moreover, all the surviving words written in Greek in the second century BGC or earlier would fit on less than 400 rolls. For ancient Greek authors as they are now generally understood, the existence of more than twenty times as many as those that have survived isn’t plausible. That such authors authored a thousand times as many words as have survived isn’t plausible. Ancient Greek authors probably wrote on average less than 25 rolls each. Claims that the Library of Alexandria held 500,000 rolls don’t add up with the figures of ancient Greek authorship.[5]

Much different figures of ancient Greek authorship are plausible. An ancient block of granite found near Alexandria has engraved on its face in Greek, “Dioskourides, 3 rolls.” Dioskourides cannot be plausibly identified. This unique object, long identified as a book container, is more reasonably interpreted as a sculpture base.[6] This object suggests that authorship, measured in rolls, carried considerable status. Authorship measured in rolls is not the same as creative, Romantic authorship. Genealogical records, records of political events and acts, compilations of quotations from others, corrected, annotated, or excerpted works of others, and commentaries on others’ work probably were the most prevalent forms of authored works in ancient Greece, as they are everywhere else.[7] Pseudo-Aristeas’ interest in the story of the translation of Hebrew scripture for the Library of Alexandria suggests that having a book included in the Library of Alexandria was a mark of prestige. How many Greeks would have had the motive and the means to author rolls and seek to have them included in the Library of Alexandria?

From the mid-fifth century to the mid-third century BGC, Greeks seeking authorial status plausibly could have driven the Library of Alexandria’s collection to 100,000 rolls. Greece in the fourth century BGC encompassed an estimated 1,100 self-governing cities with probably more than 8 million residents. Among those cities, 330 were members of the Delian League and at least 80 had total territory larger than 500 square kilometers.[8] Suppose that, among each generation of adults, the 80 largest cities averaged 5 authors each, the other estimated 250 members of the Delian League averaged 2 authors each, and the remaining 770 cities averaged 1 author each. Those estimates imply a total of 1670 authors per adult generation. Two centuries would span about six generations of adults. That implies about 10,000 authors in total. If each averaged in the Library of Alexander ten roles under his or her name, that implies 100,000 rolls.[9]

Individual and political status-seeking are central to the production and collection of books. Elite Greek men engaged intensely in verbal competition. The creation of libraries in the ancient Islamic world and the enduring knowledge of the ninth-century House of Wisdom in Baghdad, like that of the ancient Library of Alexandria, reflect political aspirations for intellectual eminence. The best indicator of the size of libraries is the nature of interpersonal and inter-societal verbal competition.

Notes:

[1] Bagnall (2002) pp. 348-51. The earliest surviving mention of the library occurs in a work dating to the second century BGC, Psuedo-Aristeas, Letter to Philocrates (Letter of Aristeas).

[2] See Al-Qifti’s account and Bar Hebraeus’ account. The latter is apparently derived from the former.

[3] Ammianus Marcellinus, quoted in Bagnall (2002) p. 352.

[4] Id. pp. 351-2. Bagnall is a highly knowledgeable, widely respected scholar. His analysis, however, has hardly been able to move prevailing accounts of the Library of Alexandria. A curious difference between al-Qifti’s account and Bar Hebraeus’ account of the destruction of the Library of Alexandria is that al-Qifti, but not Bar Hebraeus, gives a specific count of the books in the library: 54,120 books.

[5] All the statements and figures in the above paragraph are based on Bagnall (2002) pp. 352-4. Most of the total number of authors whose words have survived have less than a few sentences surviving.

[6] Id. pp. 354-5. Bagnall (2003), p. 21, notes: “The inscription of the Dioskourides block is unique.” The underlying social dynamics, however, probably were prevalent.

[7] See, e.g. commonplace books, collections of wise sayings, and contemporary blogs. Ibn Abi Usaibia’s History of Physicians includes with each physician a list of the titles that the physician authored. Commentaries are rather common. In recent years, total print-on-demand titles has jumped to nearly eight times that of traditional print titles. Print-on-demand titles typically have low authorial investment.

[8] Hansen (2008) pp. 260-2.

[9] In Ibn Abi Usaibia’s History of Physicians, which is roughly a prestige-selected set of physicians, the physicians’ distribution of books authored is highly skewed. The over-all average books listed per author is 25. Nonetheless, ten books per author in the Library of Alexandria may still be too high. In England from 1783 to 1819, female-authored novels outnumbered male-authored novels by 42%. The number of female-authored rolls in classical Greece was probably much small than the number of male-authored rolls, but not negligible. Persian, Assyrian, and Egyptian books could have further increased the total number of rolls in the library.

References:

Bagnall, Roger S. 2002. “Alexandria: Library of Dreams.” Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society, v. 146 (4) pp. 348-362.

Bagnall, Roger S. 2003 “Dioskourides: Three Rolls.” Bulletin de la Société archéologique d’Alexandrie. v. 47, pp. 5-17.

Hansen, Mogens Herman. 2008. “An Update on the Shotgun Method.” Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies, v. 48, n. 3, pp. 259–286.

Tagged: libraries

Places, Actions & Info

Highlights

Categories