By Ustad Soroush Mahallati – Translated by Sayyid Ali Imran

These are translations of classes delivered by Ustad Soroush Mahallati during the summer vacation on political philosophy and political jurisprudence. In this post, I have translated the third lesson from July 13th, 2025. This lesson goes into some detail about the nature of revelation. For an extensive understanding of revelation from the perspective of philosophers, read the series on The Reality of Revelation by Shaykh Haider Hobbollah.

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Revelation and Governance

In the name of God, the Most Compassionate, the Most Merciful

All praise is due to God, Lord of the worlds, and may peace and blessings be upon our Master and Prophet, Abū al-Qāsim al-Muṣṭafā Muḥammad (peace be upon him and his family).

Peace be upon all dear friends and companions. With God’s help and grace, I begin the third session of discussions on Kitāb al-Millah by Fārābī. In the previous session, as you observed, Fārābī discussed the various types of leadership (riyāsah) and explained four categories of it. We presented a brief discussion about this four-fold classification and some other types of leadership that Fārābī has explored in his other works. However, in Kitāb al-Millah, the discussion on the types and forms of leadership is merely a preliminary matter. What is truly important in this book is the clarification of the first and foremost kind of leadership: the virtuous leadership (al-riyāsah al-fāḍilah).

What Is True Happiness and How Is It Related to Revelation?

We understood briefly that the objective pursued in virtuous leadership is the true felicity of human beings. But how can one recognize this true felicity? The answer that Fārābī provides is this: To recognize true felicity, we must turn to revelation (waḥi). The First Ruler (al-ra’īs al-awwal) is the one who, through revelation, receives the understanding of true felicity and of the Millah—that is, the prescribed set of actions and beliefs—and then conveys it to humankind.

As you can see, Fārābī here integrates several key concepts:

1. Ultimate Happiness (al-saʿādah al-quṣwā) – the truest and highest stage of human perfection. We have not yet had the opportunity to elaborate on this concept in full detail.

2. Millah – which, as previously explained, refers to: “a set of beliefs and actions that are prescribed and constrained by certain conditions, which are drawn up for a group of people by their First Ruler, who seeks—through their adherence to these opinions and actions—to achieve a specific objective concerning them or through them. This group may be a tribe, a city, a region, a great nation, or even multiple nations.” Fārābī considers Millah to be equivalent to religion in its conventional sense, and he will clarify this equivalence in later discussions.

3. Revelation – which is the means through which we come to know both religion and true happiness.

This part of Fārābī’s discussion is clear and understandable. He argues that we need a prescription and delimitation (taqdīr) of actions and beliefs—meaning: the scope of each action and the limits of each opinion must be precisely defined. And this prescription is carried out through revelation. Hence, just as virtuous leadership is based on revelation, the virtuous Millah is also based on revelation.

This is because there can be multiple Millahs, some of which may be man-made and not derived from revelation. But virtuous leadership, virtuous Millah, virtuous city, and virtuous nation—all of them, in Fārābī’s ideal vision—are ultimately founded upon revelation. Thus, Fārābī makes it clear here that his ideal government is grounded in revelation. Fārābī then elaborates on what it means to prescribe actions (taqdīr al-afʿāl). That is, to define the proper scope and conditions for each action.

For example: When we say that marriage is permissible, or that divorce is permissible, the scope and permissibility of these actions must be defined through revelation and within the framework of the Sharīʿah. What kind of marriage is permissible? With whom can one marry? Under what conditions?

Likewise, when divorce is declared permissible, and for all other legal and ethical actions, Fārābī insists that they require taqdīr—meaning their conditions must be specified. Just as the scope of actions must be clarified, beliefs too must be precisely defined. For instance: When discussing the attributes of God, how are these divine names and attributes to be understood? Are they separate from the essence (zā’id ʿalā al-dhāt)? Or are they identical with the essence (ʿayn al-dhāt)? Are these attributes affirmative (thubūtī) or negative (salbī)? These matters must be clearly determined. In short, each action and each belief must be placed within its proper domain and conditions—a key principle in Fārābī’s philosophical-political framework.

Two Kinds of Revelation

However, in relation to the First Ruler—who is, of course, the Prophet to whom revelation is sent—two types of revelation can be imagined. That is, the prescription (taqdīr) of actions and beliefs is, in fact, of two kinds.

The first kind of revelation is one in which the specific prescriptions, determinations, and conditions are revealed directly to the Prophet, for each action, how it must be carried out. For example, when prayer is revealed, how exactly prayer must be performed is also revealed. Or when fasting is revealed—in the Qur’an, through revelation—it is clarified for the Prophet when fasting should begin, from what point abstention must start, and at what time fasting ends. Once abstention ends, actions that were prohibited for the fasting person during the day become permissible at night. These are the specific prescriptions related to actions, whether in acts of worship or in transactions, which are clarified through revelation. This is the first form of revelation.

But Fārābī says that a second type of revelation is also possible. In this second form, the prescriptions related to actions are determined by the Prophet himself, but based on a faculty that he receives through revelation. He acquires a certain power, which is sometimes referred to as the sacred faculty (al-quwwah al-qudsiyyah). Based on this sacred faculty, which he acquires through revelation, the Prophet himself determines and specifies the prescriptions. Both forms are possible.

To make the second form clearer, let me give an example. Just as a mujtahid gains access to a faculty of ijtihād and derives the rulings of the Sharīʿah through this faculty, Fārābī wants to say that something similar can occur in the case of revelation. Of course, in essence, they are completely different, but I mention this by way of analogy: a sacred faculty is granted to the Prophet through revelation, and he himself derives the particulars using this faculty.

In our jurisprudential discussions, we have multiple examples of this second type, where the prescriptions were specified by the Prophet (p). Some narrations state that the determinations regarding diyyah (blood money) were specified by the Prophet, meaning they were not revealed to him directly by divine command. From some narrations, we understand that the determinations regarding the items liable for zakāt were also specified by the Prophet, again without direct revelation concerning them. So at times, revelation specifies the prescriptions of actions and beliefs; and at other times, revelation grants the Prophet a sacred faculty for discernment—a set of general principles—by means of which the Messenger of God (p) specifies the prescriptions himself.

Fārābī further notes that in philosophy—or theoretical wisdom—there has been discussion regarding the nature of revelation and how it is possible for a human being to establish a connection and receive revelation. However, that kind of discussion is not suitable for this particular work, Kitāb al-Millah, and therefore is not addressed here.

Text from Kitāb al-Millah:

«[فإنّ‌] الرئيس [الأوّل] الفاضل إنّما تكون مهنته ملكيّة مقرونة بوحي من اللّه [إليه] . و إنّما يقدّر الأفعال و الآراء التي في الملّة الفاضلة >بالوحي< ، [و ذلك] بأحد وجهين أو بكليهما: أحدهما أن توحى إليه هذه كلّها مقدّرة، و الثاني أن يقدّرها هو بالقوّة التي استفادها  >هو< عن الوحي و الموحي تعالى حتّى تكشّفت له بها الشرائط‍‌ التي بها يقدّر الآراء و الأفعال الفاضلة، أو يكون بعضها بالوجه الأوّل و بعضها بالوجه الثاني. و قد تبيّن في العلم النظريّ‌ كيف يكون وحي اللّه تعالى إلى الإنسان الذي يوحى إليه و كيف تحصل في الإنسان القوّة عن الوحي و الموحي.

“Indeed, the task of the virtuous First Ruler is a royal one (mulkīyah), accompanied by revelation from God [to him]. And the actions and beliefs that constitute the virtuous Millah are prescribed through revelation, in one of two ways—or both: one is that all of these are revealed to him already prescribed; and the second is that he himself prescribes them through the faculty that he acquired from the revelation and the One who reveals—so that, through it, the conditions by which virtuous beliefs and actions are prescribed become clear to him. Or it may be that some are through the first method and some through the second. It has already been clarified in theoretical science how divine revelation occurs to the human recipient, and how the human being acquires a faculty from the revelation and the One who reveals.” (Kitāb al-Millah, p. 44)

Explanation and Commentary on the Text

This is part of the passage from the late Fārābī in this section. I will now read his words, and after I have read and translated this section, I will provide further explanations concerning the topic of revelation—especially from Fārābī’s perspective. Unfortunately, in the printed editions, the sentences are often grouped too closely together. It would have been better had the different paragraphs been separated.

After presenting the fourfold classification of leadership, Fārābī continues with the following: «فإن الرئیس الأول الفاضل» — Why does he return to the discussion of the righteous First Ruler (الرئیس الفاضل)? Because this is a return to the first category, and it becomes clear that the other three types of leadership were discussed only incidentally. Their inclusion was merely to clarify how the righteous ruler differs from the ignorant or deviant ones. But now, the focus returns to the main subject.

«فإنّ الرئیس الأوّل الفاضل إنما تکون مهنته ملکیّة مقرونة بوحي من اللّه إلیه» The task of the righteous First Ruler is described as a royal profession (مهنة ملكية), a political and ruling responsibility, and it is accompanied by revelation from God. In other words, his rulership operates in tandem with divine revelation. What role does revelation play here? «و إنّما یقدر الأفعال و الآراء التي في الملة الفاضلة بالوحي» The acts and beliefs in the virtuous religion (الملة الفاضلة) are determined and prescribed through revelation. As mentioned in the previous session, “millah” is a general term meaning religion or way of life. It could refer to any system, even a false one, but here it refers to the true path to felicity, overseen by the righteous First Ruler.

«و ذلک بأحد وجهین أو بکلیهما» This prescription or determination is done in one of two ways, or sometimes both. «أحدهما أن توحى إلیه هذه کلها مقدّرة» The first way is that everything—the beliefs and actions—is revealed to the Prophet fully prescribed, in detailed form. For example, God directly reveals the number of daily prayers, their units, and all their components. «و الثانی أن یقدرها هو بالقوّة التي استفادها هو عن الوحي و الموحي‌ تعالی» The second method is that he determines them himself using a power he acquired from revelation—a sacred faculty bestowed by the One who reveals. Through this, the Prophet comes to discern the conditions under which virtuous actions and beliefs are to be prescribed.

«حتی تکشّفت له بها الشرائط التي بها یقدّر الآراء و الأفعال الفاضلة» Through this faculty, the Prophet gains insight into the conditions that govern how virtuous beliefs and actions are to be determined. For instance, under what conditions is marriage praiseworthy? Or when is divorce legitimate? When is a business transaction valid? Even in moral matters: when is truthfulness obligatory? Are there exceptions to the prohibition of lying or backbiting? This faculty helps the Prophet uncover those qualifying conditions. «أو یکون بعضها بالوجه الأوّل و بعضها بالوجه الثاني» Sometimes, some aspects are prescribed directly by God, and others are left to the Prophet to determine using this God-given capacity.

Fārābī is making an important point here: not everything the Prophet legislates is directly revealed. Some rulings come from the Prophet’s own authority to legislate, based on what was endowed to him through revelation. This concept has significant implications in Islamic jurisprudence, ḥadīth studies, and theology, especially regarding the Prophet’s right of legislation (ḥaqq al-tashrīʿ), which many Muslim scholars have affirmed. There is further debate on the scope and nature of this legislative authority:

• Does it always pertain to governance (wilāyah siyāsiyyah)?

• Are rulings made under this capacity changeable or fixed?

For example, narrations indicate that God initially prescribed two rakʿahs for each prayer, and the Prophet himself added more for specific prayers (e.g., Maghrib, ʿIshāʾ). So here, Fārābī is laying the foundation for the idea that the Prophet is not merely a conveyor of revelation, but at times, also a lawgiver—though always acting based on the sacred faculty granted through revelation. Then Fārābī concludes:

«و قد تبیّن فی العلم النظريّ کیف یکون وحي اللّه تعالی إلی الإنسان الذي یوحی إلیه و کیف تحصل في‌ الإنسان القوّة عن الوحي و الموحي» This issue—how God’s revelation occurs to a human, and how a person acquires the capacity for such reception—has already been explained in theoretical philosophy.

In short, Fārābī tells the reader: do not expect a discussion in Kitāb al-Millah on the metaphysical nature of revelation, how it happens, or how the sacred faculty is produced in the soul. That discussion belongs in its proper philosophical place and has already been addressed elsewhere.

Points Regarding the Reliance of the Religion and the Rule of the First Ruler upon Revelation

The very idea that the millah, the religious path and tradition, is based on revelation—firstly—and that the leadership and governance of the First Ruler is likewise grounded in revelation—secondly—these are two fundamental points that Fārābī explicitly states here. Regarding these two points, there are some issues that I believe warrant a bit of pause and further analysis, particularly by referring to Fārābī’s other works, so that the matter becomes clearer to us. In this section, then, we will pause and reflect, and I will present a few notes to you.

First Point: The Reason for the Necessity of Revelation

The first point that requires reflection in Fārābī’s statement is: what reason does Fārābī give for the necessity of revelation? In the passage that I read, he merely asserts the claim that the prescription of beliefs and actions is carried out through revelation by the First Ruler. Very well—but is it truly necessary that the prescription of beliefs and actions by the First Ruler be done through revelation? Is there no alternative?

Ibn Sīnā’s Argument for the Necessity of Revelation and Its Shortcoming

Ibn Sīnā presents an argument for the necessity of revelation in various works, such as al-Shifāʾ and al-Najāt, and his argument is as follows: social life necessarily requires law so that disorder and chaos do not arise in the structure of society. If there is no law, anarchy will result. In order for us to have law and order, divine prophets provide us—via revelation—with a model of order and a code for coexistence, which we refer to as “law.”

This argument, after Ibn Sīnā, has been subjected to critique and objection. Notably, Khwāja (Naṣīr al-Dīn al-Ṭūsī), in his commentary on al-Ishārāt, is aware of and attentive to this objection. The critique is this: while it is accepted and agreed upon that social life requires order, and that order in turn requires law—these two premises are valid—what proof is there that law must necessarily be determined by God? Can we not have social order and the prevention of oppression and injustice without divine law?

The answer is that experience itself shows that social order and legal structures can exist even without revelation. Law is not confined to what is received through revelation. But Fārābī responds to this question differently. His answer differs from that of Ibn Sīnā, and the critique that applies to Ibn Sīnā’s answer does not apply to Fārābī at all.

A Well-Grounded Argument by Fārābī for the Necessity of Revelation

Fārābī begins his discussion from a different starting point in his works to arrive at the necessity of revelation. His starting premise is this: the human being seeks to know and attain happiness (saʿādah). From this premise, he adds that human awareness of how to acquire true happiness is neither complete nor comprehensive. Thus, there is a need for revelation. In other words, the central focus here is ultimate happiness (saʿādah quṣwā), not merely social order. We may be able to achieve social order without religion, but can we reach ultimate happiness without religion and without revelation? The answer is: if human life is not limited to this worldly existence, and if there is life after this one—a life that is eternal and everlasting—and if we lack complete and adequate understanding of that otherworldly happiness, which surpasses worldly happiness in importance, then we are compelled to admit that the roadmap for attaining eternal happiness must be received through revelation. Nothing else can substitute it.

This is Fārābī’s argument. It is an argument that is impervious to critique or objection—it is entirely well-grounded.

Let me now refer directly to Fārābī’s own words so that what he has briefly mentioned in Kitāb al-Millah—the sentence I earlier read—can be explored in more detail. In al-Siyāsah al-Madaniyyah, p. 78, the discussion begins with the sentence:

“And if the purpose of the existence of the human being is to attain ultimate happiness (al-saʿādah al-quṣwā)…”

If the purpose of human creation is to attain true happiness, and if that is the goal, then:

“…then he needs (yaḥtāj)”—in order to attain that happiness, he needs three things:

“…then he needs, in order to reach it (fī bulūghihā), to first know happiness”—he must first recognize what happiness is.

“…and to make it his goal and keep it ever before his eyes”—once he has recognized it, he must set it as his target.

So first, he must identify happiness and set it as his goal. That is the first step.

The second step: “Then he needs to know the things that he must do in order to attain happiness.”

He must recognize the path to reach that happiness. What actions must one take to reach it? And conversely, what actions are obstacles to it and must be avoided? This is the second stage.

“Then he must perform those actions.” The third stage is to act—to set himself in motion and carry out those deeds necessary for attaining happiness. So, it is necessary to: recognize happiness, understand the path to it, and act upon that path.

Now the question arises: is innate human knowledge (fitrah) sufficient for the human being to:

(a) recognize happiness, and
(b) discern the actions that lead to it?

The answer is: no. Hence, we observe how much disagreement exists in this domain. The human conscience is unable to offer a decisive and clear answer here.

“And due to what has been said about the diversity of innate dispositions among human individuals, it is not within the innate disposition of every person to know happiness on his own.”

The human being cannot independently determine what happiness is. “Nor [to know] the things he ought to do in order to attain it.” Nor can he independently discern the actions required to reach that happiness.

This is where the need for a teacher and guide arises. But if that teacher or guide has the same level of awareness as ordinary humans, they cannot solve this problem. The guide must have superior power and broader awareness, so that he may provide that knowledge to others as well.

The one who possesses such complete and comprehensive knowledge in this domain can take on the role of the First Ruler, bearing the responsibility of guidance (irshād) for all individuals.

This discussion continues in more detail for about two pages until it reaches the following statement: “And this person is truly a king (al-malik) according to the ancients, and he is the one about whom it should be said that revelation is sent to him.” In other words, the one who attains such vast awareness—who can foresee the future and discern the various stages of the path—is the kind of human to whom revelation is sent.

“Indeed, revelation is only sent to a human being who has reached this rank.” He must attain the highest level of intellect, such that he is able to receive revelation.

Fārābī goes on to discuss how the intellect progresses through various stages, gaining strength until it reaches the stage of the acquired intellect (ʿaql mustafād), which can connect with the active intellect (ʿaql faʿāl)—and this connection is made through revelation.

The discussion of revelation, as mentioned in this passage and which I will later read more fully, begins on page 78. It starts with the prerequisites for understanding ultimate happiness and its pathways, and it culminates in the necessity of revelation.

In essence, the prescription of actions and beliefs that Fārābī refers to in Kitāb al-Millah is a prescription oriented toward happiness—not just any prescription. We can, of course, have many models of social organization for our worldly lives. There are many possible systems of order. Therefore, we cannot argue that only one kind of order exists—and that it is the one presented by revelation.

To establish the necessity of revelation, the order and the prescription of actions and beliefs must be defined within the framework of ultimate happiness. That is where the necessity of revelation becomes clear, and where we understand that to attain that end—which goes beyond this worldly life and is not confined to it—the human being must rely on revelation and benefit from it.

We must add this point: there is an implicit premise in Kitāb al-Millah that we are currently reading. Fārābī explains the role of revelation in the prescription of actions and beliefs. What is implicit—and what I have just explained—is the question: why revelation? Is there no other path?

The answer: a prescription oriented toward ultimate happiness has no other path. Although, of course, for worldly prescriptions and arrangements, many models and paths may exist. That was the first point.

Second Point: Fārābī and the Critique of the Self-Sufficiency of Human Reason in Legislation

The second point that becomes clear from the previous discussion is this: does Fārābī reject the sufficiency of human reason (ʿaql) for establishing the proper prescription of beliefs and actions (āʿrāʾ wa afʿāl)? Does he not believe that human intellect alone can legislate laws—laws whose essential function is precisely to prescribe actions (not beliefs, as beliefs relate to worldview and transcend the domain of legal code)?

Let us reframe the question: on what foundation is law built? If the law is based solely on reason and experience, then both of these foundations encounter limitations. They cannot offer complete answers to all human questions—not that they answer nothing, but their reach is partial. Reason functions like a spotlight (nūr afkan) that can illuminate parts of human behavior and actions—and within those bounds, reason is indeed necessary and valuable.

But can this spotlight extend all the way to the ultimate destination of human existence—can it illuminate the end of the road, the final happiness? Is reason alone capable of outlining such a prescription of actions that would carry us to that eternal goal?

It is here that Fārābī, as a monotheistic philosopher, firmly denies such a possibility and affirms the necessity of revelation. This is a discussion that, with God’s help, we will explore further in one or two future sessions, God-willing.

The Comparison of Religion and Philosophy in al-Millah

In Kitāb al-Millah, page 46—note that the discussion we read earlier was on page 44—Fārābī offers a comparison between millah (meaning here the virtuous religion, based on revelation) and philosophy. He explains that philosophy attempts to answer questions using pure rationality (naẓar ʿaqlī) alone, whereas religion benefits from revelation. In this comparison, Fārābī acknowledges that reason can provide us with general principles about actions and their prescriptions. That is, it is not the case that reason offers no guidance at all in this domain.

But, he argues, what reason can provide is not sufficient. While practical philosophy (al-ḥikmah al-ʿamaliyyah) can offer general insights into the prescription of human actions, the details of these prescriptions are found in religion. For example, through innate rational faculties (ʿaql fiṭrī), we may recognize that procreation is necessary among humans, that marriage is natural and essential. This is understandable through basic reason. However, when it comes to the specific regulations—the conditions that govern these practices, the prescription of how they are to be performed and under what legal stipulations—this is the domain of religion.

Thus, Fārābī says on page 47:

“The religion consists of generalities found in practical philosophy. And what is in religion from the practical domain are those generalities, but prescribed with conditions that specify them.”

Meaning: the religion contains general principles that reason has grasped—such as in worship and transactions—but once these come into religion, they are prescribed with specific conditions. So marriage becomes bound by conditions; buying and selling become regulated by specific terms. In some cases, rational people (ʿuqalāʾ) independently arrive at these prescriptions, and religion simply confirms and endorses them. But in many areas, human reason cannot independently reach those specific legal prescriptions.

Thus, the limitations of reason in prescribing actions, combined with the second issue—namely, the broad and lofty horizon of human movement toward ultimate happiness, an area in which reason has little experiential knowledge—mean that reason alone cannot answer all of humanity’s deep questions. This, then, is one of the points that needs clarification: why and how does Fārābī turn so directly to revelation?

The Role of Kalām and the Need for It

Fārābī also addresses this issue in other works. It’s worth pointing out for those interested in pursuing the topic further that Fārābī discusses the need for ʿilm al-kalām (theology) in his book Iḥṣāʾ al-ʿUlūm (The Enumeration of the Sciences), especially when addressing the relationship between reason and revelation, and explaining why reason alone is insufficient without revelation. In Iḥṣāʾ al-ʿUlūm, Fārābī presents this as the very foundation for theological inquiry. If you are interested, consult page 87 of Iḥṣāʾ al-ʿUlūm. The version I have includes the Arabic text (I’ll read a few sentences), but a good Persian translation has also been published and circulated.

He discusses the role of theologians (mutakallimūn)—those who defend the intervention of religion in the realm of actions and beliefs. He states:

“If these are taken from divine revelation, it is because they contain divine secrets that the human intellect is too weak to comprehend, and cannot reach.”

Thus, there is no alternative but to turn to divine revelation. Many of the prescriptions related to human actions, and their conditions and qualifiers, contain divine wisdom and secrets that are beyond human comprehension.

“And also, the human being must be informed by the revealed religions of those things which he cannot discern by his reason alone.”

In matters where reason falls short, humans must turn to religion and divine law, which is based on revelation. Fārābī continues with a relatively detailed discussion explaining the necessity of theology (ʿilm al-kalām) on this very basis. For those interested in delving deeper into this dimension of his thought, I recommend consulting Iḥṣāʾ al-ʿUlūm.

Third Point: The Stages of Intellect According to the Philosophers

Another point worth mentioning here is that at the end of this section, Fārābī notes that the discussion on the nature and quality of revelation falls under theoretical knowledge (ʿilm naẓarī), specifically within theoretical philosophy (ḥikmah naẓariyyah). Both Fārābī and the philosophers who came after him explored this subject in detail.

While it is not possible to delve deeply into the nature of revelation within Kitāb al-Millah, it is appropriate to explain the reference Fārābī makes here briefly and to introduce at least some sources for those who wish to pursue this topic further.

In his al-Siyāsah al-Madanīyyah, Fārābī presents a concise discussion about the nature and quality of revelation. To understand this concise treatment, one must consider a foundational concept: the stages of the intellect (marātib al-ʿaql). Philosophical texts often contain discussions under this heading, and even later works such as Nihāyat al-Ḥikmah by the late ʿAllāmah Ṭabāṭabāʾī include a chapter on it.

This subject is deeply rooted in philosophical tradition, from Aristotle (the First Teacher) to Fārābī (the Second Teacher), and onward to later philosophers. There is some disagreement among them—some consider there to be three levels of intellect, others count four. You can consult volume three of al-Asfār al-Arbaʿah by Ṣadr al-Mutaʾallihīn for a detailed treatment.

1. Material Intellect (ʿAql Hayūlānī)

The first stage of the intellect is referred to as the material intellect. It is the initial state of the rational faculty placed within humans by God, which at this stage has not yet acquired any actual knowledge or realization. It is like matter (hayūlā) in its pure potentiality, prepared to receive knowledge. It represents the starting point of rational potential—there is capacity and readiness, but no actualized knowledge. Philosophers call this the ʿaql al-hayūlānī (the material or potential intellect).

2. Habitual Intellect (ʿAql bi al-Malakah)

Gradually, this rational capacity develops. The human begins to acquire basic awareness and knowledge—simple, self-evident truths (awwaliyyāt) and very clear concepts. At this stage, the intellect has acquired a habitual capacity to know, and it is referred to as ʿaql bi al-malakah (the intellect with habitual power).

3. Actual Intellect (ʿAql bi al-Fiʿl)

Then, the rational power increases further, enabling the human being to engage in more complex thought and understand issues beyond the realm of the self-evident. It is no longer limited to the obvious or innate. The mind begins to engage with more challenging intellectual problems and produce insights. This stage is called ʿaql bi al-fiʿl (actual intellect), defined by philosophers as:

“That which enables the person, at will, to bring forth second-order intelligibles (maʿqūlāt thanawiyyah) into presence.”

In other words, it is the ability to access and work through intellectual problems as needed, using deductive and reflective reasoning.

4. Acquired Intellect (ʿAql Mustafād)

Eventually, this rational power may become fully actualized. Through reflection and contemplation, the human being comes to understand and internalize many truths and gains extensive knowledge. When this stage is reached, it is called ʿaql mustafād (the acquired intellect).

At this point, philosophers pose a central question: Where do these acquired insights come from? What is the efficient cause (mabdaʾ fāʿilī) of this knowledge? Where is its source?

5. Active Intellect (ʿAql Faʿʿāl) – The Source of the Acquired Intellect

This leads to the discussion of the ʿaql faʿāl (the active intellect). The idea is that the human mind, upon establishing a connection with this immaterial source that possesses all knowledge, receives and absorbs knowledge from it.

Thus, what we recognize in ourselves as ʿaql mustafād—our acquired knowledge—originates through this connection with the active intellect. The active intellect is a completely immaterial entity, not a faculty within the soul. By contrast, the acquired intellect (ʿaql mustafād) is a power that actualizes within the human soul.

This subject is discussed extensively in the works of philosophers. For instance, Ibn Sīnā addresses this topic clearly in his discussions on the soul (nafs). See Volume 2 of the Sharḥ al-Ishārāt, page 354, where these ideas are well explained.

This overview was intended to introduce the concept of the stages of intellect as understood by the philosophers (ḥukamāʾ), and it provides the necessary framework for understanding how they conceptualized the reception and transmission of revelation—especially as elaborated by Fārābī.

The Nature of Revelation in Relation to the Active Intellect

Fārābī draws on this very issue, and in fact, this usage and this reasoning remained intact even after him. The idea is that sometimes the connection or link that occurs happens through waḥi, and the nature of waḥi is that a human being who possesses intellectual power connects with that intellectual source—which is the ʿaql faʿāl—and benefits from it, thus reaching the stage of ʿaql mustafād in this context.

I will now read a passage from Fārābī’s al-Siyāsah al-Madaniyyah, page 79. I had previously read and referred to a part of this. He states: «فإن الإنسان إنما یوحی إلیه إذا بلغ هذه الرتبة»—that is, revelation comes to a human only when he has reached this rank. By “this rank,” he means, as he explained two lines earlier, that the intellect of man initially is ʿaql munfaʿil—passive intellect—and this vessel is empty. Then, it arrives at ʿaql mustafād. «ثم أن یحصل له بعد ذلک العقل الذي یسمی المستفاد فبحصول المستفاد یکون الإتصال بالعقل الفعّال»—the awareness the human gains results from connection with the ʿaql faʿʿāl. This was mentioned two lines before. Now he continues: «فإنّ الإنسان إنما یوحی إلیه إذا بلغ هذه الرتبة و ذلک إذا لم یبقی بینه و بین العقل الفعال واسطة»—that is, if there remains no intermediary between the person and the ʿaql faʿʿāl, then whatever is within the ʿaql faʿʿāl reaches the person.

«فإن العقل المنفعل یکون شبه المادة و الموضوع للعقل المستفاد»—the ʿaql munfaʿil is like matter and substrate for the ʿaql mustafād. At first, the intellect is ʿaql munfaʿil, like a material substance which then acquires the form of ʿaql mustafād. And the ʿaql mustafād itself is similar to a material that becomes actualized through connection with the ʿaql faʿāl. «و حینئذ یفیض من العقل الفعال علی العقل المنفعل القوة التی بها یمکن أن یوقف علی تهدید الأشیاء و الأفعال و تصدیدها نحو السعادة»—I read the whole passage because of this sentence, which relates to our discussion. That is, the ʿaql munfaʿil in the human, which is merely potential, becomes actualized, it grows and matures to the extent that it receives a quwwah (power) from the ʿaql faʿʿāl.

What is this power that it receives? It is the power through which one can become aware of the boundaries of things and actions and delineate them—of course, with reference to that overarching framework of saʿādah, that is, how every act has an effect, under what conditions, toward reaching that ultimate felicity.

ʿAql Faʿāl as the Efficient Cause, and ʿAql Munfaʿil as the Receptive Cause

Note that in Kitāb al-Millah, in the passage we previously read, the last sentence was that in theoretical knowledge, it is explained «کیف تحصل فی الإنسان القوّة عن الوحی و الموحی». There, the term quwwah was used, and now in al-Siyāsah al-Madaniyyah, he is explaining what is meant by quwwah. Is it not the case that waḥi involves the determination of the boundaries of actions and opinions? We have read this repeatedly in Kitāb al-Millah from Fārābī, and we will read it even more often in the pages to come—that every action has its conditions and limitations, and that every action’s relation to human saʿādah must be known.

Here in al-Siyāsah al-Madaniyyah, Fārābī explains that when the ʿaql munfaʿil becomes fully prepared, completely capable, and blossoms, it then receives an ifāḍah from the ʿaql faʿāl. «یفیض من العقل الفعال علی العقل المنفعل»—What is this ifāḍah? It is the bestowal of a power. What kind of power? «القوة التی بها یمکن أن یوقف علی تهدید الأشیاء و الأفعال و تصدیدها نحو السعادة»—a power by which the Prophet can determine the limits of things in light of that goal which is saʿādah. «و هذه الإفاضة الکائنة‌ من العقل الفعال إلی العقل المنفعل»—this ifāḍah that occurs from the ʿaql faʿāl to the ʿaql munfaʿil (where the former is the efficient cause and the latter is the receptive cause), «بأن یتوسط بینهما العقل المستفاد»—the one that mediates between the two is the ʿaql mustafād.

The result is that the ʿaql munfaʿil, under these conditions, arrives at the stage of ʿaql mustafād, which before had only been a potentiality for receiving this awareness—it was capacity, it was quwwah—and now those insights have been actualized.

The Role of Revelation in Reaching ʿAql Mustafād

What is that ifāḍah which leads a person to ʿaql mustafād? He says: it is waḥi. «فهذه الإفاضة هو الوحی». So why do you attribute waḥi to God? Shouldn’t you attribute it to the ʿaql faʿāl? Well, this is because in the chain of beings that are causally ordered, one can still attribute something to the first cause and source. «و لأن العقل الفعال فائض عن وجود السبب الأول فقط یمکن لأیدی ذلک أن یقال إن السبب الأول هو المحی إلی هذا الإنسان بتوسط العقل الفعال»—since the ʿaql faʿāl does not act independently. Whatever it has, whatever it does, is all in accordance with the divine will. Therefore, a monotheistic perspective necessitates that we say waḥi is from God—but through the ʿaql faʿʿāl.

And in a broader framework, essentially all of the awareness that human beings have—God is the true teacher of humanity: «عَلَّمَ الْإِنسَانَ مَا لَمْ یَعْلَمْ».

Then he says: «و الریاسة هذا الإنسان هی الریاسة الأولیٰ»—this person who is endowed with waḥi is the one who holds the highest level of leadership, and his leadership is considered the riʾāsah ūlā. These are the discussions that he presents here.

The Active Intellect in Philosophical Terminology is the Same as al-Rūḥ al-Amīn in Religious Terminology

Now, this also needs to be kept in mind: when philosophers like Fārābī discuss the ʿaql faʿāl (Active Intellect) and state that the outpouring of revelation occurs through the ʿaql faʿāl, they are using this terminology according to the conventions of the philosophers. Otherwise, they themselves explain that if we were to speak according to the language of religion, this ʿaql faʿāl is the same as al-Rūḥ al-Amīn, the same as al-Rūḥ al-Qudus, the same as Jibrāʾīl.

And Fārābī explicitly mentions this in his book al-Siyāsah al-Madaniyyah, p. 32: “wa-l-ʿaql al-faʿāl huwa alladhī yanbaghī an yuqāl innahu al-rūḥ al-amīn wa al-rūḥ al-qudus”

So this ʿaql faʿʿāl that fills the books of philosophy—ʿaql faʿāl! ʿaql faʿāl! ʿaql faʿāl!—from which the reception takes place, from which the prophets receive revelation: it’s not something foreign or unfamiliar. He says: This is al-Rūḥ al-Amīn, this is al-Rūḥ al-Qudus, this is Jibrāʾīl, who is the intermediary for divine grace (fayḍ ilāhī) so that the Prophet may receive the revelation. This is a short explanation for the reference that Fārābī makes here.

Fourth Point: The Role of the Faculty of Imagination (al-quwwah al-mutakhayyilah) in Receiving Revelation

If you allow me, I’d like to touch upon another point in the time remaining—a point I believe is both necessary and important. That point is this: Fārābī explains in his works whether the imaginative faculty in a human being—specifically in the Prophet who receives revelation—has any role in this reception or not. Fārābī, along with other philosophers, accepts that this imaginative faculty (quwwah al-khayāl) plays a role in the reception of revelation.

Once this is accepted, we are then faced with an important question. I’ll first explain how this faculty is involved, and then pose a question that is very serious and foundational. The truths that the Prophet receives—through his connection with Jibrāʾīl, or al-Rūḥ al-Qudus, or the ʿaql faʿāl—are truths that descend upon his heart. He receives those truths exactly as they are in the higher realm. There is no dispute in this stage: what is revealed to the heart of the Messenger (p) is identical to what is possessed by Jibrāʾīl, or al-Rūḥ al-Qudus, or exists in the ʿaql faʿāl. But after these truths are received by the Prophet, then his imaginative faculty becomes active.

What role does it play? These intellectual and rational insights flow into the imagination and are then given form. When they descended into the heart, they had no form—but now they are shaped into images.

Let me give an example: some narrations state that when Jibrāʾīl would descend to the Prophet (p), he would appear in the form of Diḥyah al-Kalbī. This phenomenon is known as tamathul (corporeal representation). It occurs only for the Prophet—not that Jibrāʾīl is Diḥyah al-Kalbī in reality, or that he truly possesses a form—he is completely immaterial.

The Qur’anic verse supports this as well: “So he appeared before her as a well-formed man.” [Q 19:17] This tamaththul happens through the imaginative faculty (quwwah al-khayāl), whose function is precisely to produce images. Then, after it assumes a shape, it is put into words. At first, there were no words. What the Prophet (p) received was a reality, a truth. But now it is presented in the form of language.

That reality was beyond language—whether Arabic, Persian, or any other tongue—but what the Prophet (p) conveys is in Arabic. This process—the path from reception to presentation of revelation—has been outlined by our philosophers. Fārābī discusses it, Ibn Sīnā discusses it, and Mullā Ṣadrā elaborates on it too. It is a serious philosophical matter.

Now, since the imaginative faculty (al-mutakhayyilah) plays a role in shaping, forming, and presenting the revelation, a serious question arises. As I said, first comes the explanation, then the question:

If revelation is shaped in the imaginative faculty, doesn’t it then require taʾwīl (interpretation) and tafsīr (exegesis), just like dreams? In dreams, too, the imaginative faculty produces images. Later, these dreams are interpreted by a dream interpreter (muʿabbir) who explains the meaning beyond the visible forms. You see this throughout the Qur’an. For example, when Prophet Yusuf (a) sees a dream:  “I saw eleven stars and the sun and the moon; I saw them prostrating to me.” [Q 12:4]

This was a dream, and the sun, moon, and stars bowing to him represent a real event that would occur in the future. It is a true reality, but it was shown in this symbolic, imaginative form. Or take the dream of the king of Egypt that Prophet Yūsuf (p) later interprets.

If this is the case, then we must say that waḥi is of the nature of a dream—requiring taʾwīl and tafsīr. And what is conveyed to us in the form of revelation is actually just symbolic forms constructed within the Prophet’s imagination. These forms themselves are not revelation in its purest sense. Rather, they are symbolic expressions of it.

This idea—that the waḥi the Prophet receives is like dreams that require interpretation—has gained popularity in our time. Some now say: what the Prophet saw were dreams, and we must interpret these dreams to find the true meaning beyond the imaginative forms.

But this is not a new idea. It is, in fact, a very old discussion. From the works of Fārābī onward, the philosophers have taken up this issue seriously. It’s not unknown or ignored by them. Let me read to you from Fārābī’s Ārāʾ Ahl al-Madīnah al-Fāḍilah, one of his most well-known works. On page 109, in chapter 25, the title of the chapter is: “al-qawl fī al-waḥi wa ruʾyat al-malak” – “A discourse on revelation and the vision of the angel.”

Fārābī begins his discussion here with: “wa dhālika anna al-quwwah al-mutakhayyilah idhā kānat fī insān mā qawiyyah kāmilah jiddan…” He starts the discussion of revelation with the topic of the imaginative faculty—its strength and completeness, and the effects it has on human perception. He then moves on to the topic of dreams, and the various interpretations that can be given to different types of dreams. My aim in referring to this is to show that the influence of the imaginative faculty on revelatory perception—such as seeing an angel in a certain form while the angel is in reality not of that form—is a serious and well-established topic in classical philosophy.

Critique of Some Recent Statements Regarding the Prophetic Dream

What is unfortunately overlooked here—and also neglected in these recent statements—is that what the Prophet receives in revelation from that metaphysical source (whether it be from rūḥ al-qudus or from the ʿaql al-faʿāl), varies in terms of clarity and obscurity. Sometimes, because the reception is not entirely clear and evident, the imaginative faculty (quwwat al-khayāl) intervenes and provides a form or image. Other times, the reception is absolutely clear and evident, in which case the imaginative faculty does not interfere at all, and no imagery is formed. In the first case, the revelation requires taʾwīl (interpretation), while in the second case, it does not.

Dreams function in the same way: at times, a dream presents a scene of reality to the person in such a way that it is exactly what has occurred or will occur—there is no need for a dream interpreter. At other times, there is ambiguity, and the imaginative faculty has intervened, and so an interpreter is needed to discern how the imaginative forms can be stripped away to reach the reality.

Thus, in the story of Prophet Ibrāhīm, when he tells Ismāʿīl: “yā bunayya innī arā fī al-manām annī adhbaḥuk”, this was not something that required interpretation in the view of Ibrāhīm. He was seeing the very truth itself. These are topics discussed in philosophical texts on the nature of revelation. Let me point out a passage by Ibn Sīnā on this matter, in the third volume of Sharḥ al-Ishārāt, tenth chapter, page 408. He discusses the variations in revelation and the ways interference may occur. Khwāja Naṣīr al-Dīn Ṭūsī also offers a clear explanation of these distinctions.

Among these, we reach page 411 where the discussion states: “Tadhnīb: fa-mā alladhī min al-athar alladhī fīhi al-kalām maḍbūṭan fī al-dhikr fī ḥālat yaqẓa aw nawmin ḍabṭan mustaqirran kāna ilhāman aw waḥyan ṣarāḥan aw ḥulman lā taḥtāj ilā taʾwīl aw taʿbīr”.

He says: sometimes these receptions are clear and explicit, whether in waking or in sleep, because revelation is not always in dreams; it can occur while awake as well. Sometimes, these receptions require no interpretation, no explanation. Other times, however, these inspirations or revelations are allegorical or symbolic and do require taʾwīl or taʿbīr.

The core validity of revelation should not be doubted on this basis. A portion of revelation, at the initial stage when it reaches the heart of the Prophet (p), is guaranteed, and the subsequent stages too—whether the point at which imagination might interfere, or when it becomes verbalized by the Prophet—are all safeguarded by God due to the clarity of the revelation. Hence, even the words of the Qur’an are considered revelation. It is not the case that the Prophet (p), after receiving divine truths, independently formed or coined the words to express them.

Yes, there are times when the revelation contains ambiguity, and the wording is left to the Prophet. This is the case in aḥādīth qudsiyyah, where the words themselves hold no particular sanctity.

Let me give an example: when you see a person from afar, two situations may arise. One: you can clearly recognize the person’s features—who it is, their eyes, brows, beard, height—because either the distance is minimal or you are using a tool that allows you to see clearly. Two: the person is far away and their face is unclear. In this second case, the imaginative faculty kicks in and constructs an image in your mind since you don’t have access to the real image. When the person comes closer, you realize how different the imagined face is from reality.

Essentially, when there is ambiguity in the reception of a form, the imaginative faculty intervenes. But when there is no ambiguity, the imaginative faculty is disarmed and rendered useless. To put it differently: sometimes the imaginative faculty is strong; sometimes it is weak. If the truth that the Prophet receives is utterly clear, the imaginative faculty withdraws and weakens. But if the truth is not fully transparent, the imaginative faculty becomes strong, steps in, and starts forming images. In such cases, interpretation is needed to peel away the image and uncover the essence of the revelation.

We can see this again in Ṣadr al-Mutaʾallihīn’s Mabdaʾ wa Maʿād, page 472, where he discusses: “In ḍuʿifat al-mutakhayyilah baqiya fī al-ḥifẓ mimma kashafa lahu min al-ghayb bi-ʿaynihi”—if the imaginative faculty is weakened, restricted, or restrained, then what is revealed from the unseen to the Prophet remains preserved in its exact form, and the imaginative faculty cannot interfere—because the truth is completely clear. When something is fully clear, imagination has no power over it. But when something is unclear or distant, the imaginative faculty can enter and impose images.

So if al-mutakhayyilah is weak, the revealed knowledge remains untouched and becomes waḥyan ṣarīḥan—a clear revelation. He then explains: ṣarīḥ means that it requires no interpretation or explanation; it is truth itself.

However, in qawiyat al-mutakhayyilah—if the imaginative faculty becomes strong, even when the Prophet receives something from the ʿaql al-faʿāl, it begins to form images, trying to create something resembling those truths: “wa ishtaghalat bi-ṭabīʿat al-muḥākāh fa-yakūn hādhā al-waḥy muftaqiran ilā al-taʾwīl”—in such a case, the revelation requires taʾwīl; otherwise, not every revelation needs interpretation.

This is why even when revelation is given to the mother of Mūsā: “fa-idhā khifta ʿalayhi fa-alqīhi fī al-yamm”—she obeys it exactly as it is. This shows the clarity of the message, and the imaginative faculty was unable to interfere or reshape it into a symbolic form needing explanation. Had there been ambiguity, she would have doubted—”What does this mean? Should I consult an interpreter to explain this command to cast my son into the river?” That would have only occurred if ambiguity existed. But in the absence of ambiguity, the power of imagination retreats.

Therefore, when the imaginative faculty is dominant and gains control, “fa-yakūn hādhā al-waḥy muftaqiran ilā al-taʾwīl kamā yaftaqiru al-ruʾyā ilā al-taʿbīr”. Just as a dream needs interpretation, such a revelation also needs interpretation.

But for the Prophet (p), who received everything with absolute clarity—even up to the point of expressing it in words—this problem does not arise.

We’ve digressed a bit from the main discussion, but I thought, in connection to the faculty that Fārābī discusses in regard to revelation here, it was appropriate to provide some explanation and refer to other relevant sources.

I thank all dear friends and companions for their patience and attention. I wish success for all of you. Wa ṣallā Allāh ʿalā Sayyidinā Muḥammad wa Ālihi al-Ṭāhirīn.