Vexed Issues on Evolution in Christianity and Islam: A Comparison

ABSTRACT

In response to Shoaib Malik's Islam and Evolution, this paper compares Christian and Muslim views on six oft perceived conflicts between neo-Darwinian evolution and religion. These concern (1) holy scripture and hermeneutics, (2) evolutionary evil, (3) human uniqueness (4) human origins, (5) divine providence in relation to evolutionary chance, and (6) the origins of religion. Whereas stunning similarities surface, we also find remarkable differences, which lead to some questions for Malik. These pertain to the status of the Qu‘ran, the seriousness of evolutionary suffering, and the possible consequences of neo-Darwinian evolution for theological anthropology and the doctrine of revelation.

KEYWORDS:

• Evolutionary theory
• Islam and science
• Adam and Eve
• reformed theology
• evolutionary evil
• human uniqueness
• scripture and hermeneutics
• chance and providence

Introduction

Shoaib Malik has put us greatly in his debt by his groundbreaking monograph on Islam and Evolution. Even though, of course, this is not the first study on the reception of neo-Darwinian evolution in Islam, given its depth, scope, and clarity it is definitely an impressive landmark and a point of reference for many years to come. The book is well structured, written in a lucid style, based on thorough research (the bibliographies at the end of each chapter are imposing) and each step in it is properly argued for. Whoever peruses the book from beginning to end not only gains much insight in the many and variegated interactions of Islamic thinkers with evolutionary theory, but is also helpfully informed about appropriate and less appropriate ways of addressing it from a Muslim perspective. Indeed, the book does not have a merely descriptive intention but also functions as a normative account and in that sense is a wonderful specimen of science-engaged theology.¹

Moreover, the research method followed in Islam and Evolution is as simple as is it sound and efficient. Its protocol can be summarized as follows: first carefully investigate what sort of claims follow from neo-Darwinian evolution, then examine to what extent possibly competing claims can be derived from the sources of revelation (in this case the Qur’ān and the ḥadīths) and their existing theological elaborations, and finally discuss the perceived conflicts as impartially as you can by critically evaluating the different solutions that have been proposed for them. In my view, even though it may seem self-evident, this profoundly scholarly methodology is an enormous merit of this book, since the creation-and-evolution market is flooded with books and pamphlets that simply adopt one view or the other and then twist all the evidence to support that particular view. In such a convoluted landscape Malik’s more open and nuanced approach comes as a relief.

A final quality of Malik’s book to be noted here is the author’s awareness of the need for limitation. Just like any other world religion, Islam is such a wide and encompassing category that it would verge on the impossible to elaborate what is supposed to be “the Islamic” view or attitude towards evolutionary theory in a way that generically applies to all Muslim traditions. For that reason, Malik has focused on one Islamic theological school of thought in particular, namely that of the Ash‘arites as part of the Sunni tradition (8).² More specifically, he zooms in on the work of Al-Ghazāli as his main interlocutor, even though he realizes that Al-Ghazāli’s identification as an Ash‘arite thinker has become contested in recent times (10).³ Of course, this means that Malik’s conclusions will only (or mostly) appeal to those Muslims who are sympathetic to Al-Ghazāli and/or the Ash‘arites. Yet there is no way to circumvent this: if we want to seriously engage with the relevant questions, we need to address the particularities of specific religious traditions instead of working with broad brush strokes.⁴ This also means that after Malik’s study there remains more work to be done in its field, especially with regard to non-Ash‘arite Muslim traditions.

Al-Ghazālī and John Calvin

As a Christian theologian interested in the interactions between science and religion I have recently followed a similar approach as Malik, by confronting evolutionary theory with what might to some extent be seen as a Christian counterpart of the Ash‘arite school of thought: the Reformed tradition.⁵ Indeed, just like Ash‘arism represents the Sunnī perspective next to other denominations that share this basic perspective, such as Mātīdurism and Atharism, so the Reformed tradition represents the Protestant perspective next to other denominations, such as Lutheranism and Anabaptism (somehow, in their sheer complexity religious traditions resemble the evolutionary tree of life and its many branches). I would not go so far as to compare John Calvin to Al-Ghazāli, but both are clearly primi inter pares in their respective traditions—and both hold strongly theocentric views at that. In what follows I will elaborate on this by briefly comparing the results of Malik’s investigation with those of my own inquiry. In this way, quite a couple of similarities—some of which may even strike us as stunning—will come to the fore. At the same time, we will also meet some remarkable differences, which will lead me to formulate a couple of questions to Malik.

Some of the similarities to be noted may be due to interactions between Muslims and Christians who have a likeminded stance vis-à-vis evolution. For example, Malik rightly notes that the anti-evolutionist arguments of well-known Muslim creationist and activist Harun Yahya (b. 1956) “seem to be, at times, an exact replication of creationist material produced by American institutions” (4). From his non-creationist perspective, Malik himself also occasionally borrows from Christian sources. For example, when discussing the so-called problem of evolutionary waste (“couldn’t God have brought into being the current biodiversity in more efficient ways?”), he draws on the thoughts of Christian biochemist Denis Alexander, whose response to this problem he even deems to be decisive as it assumes an understanding of God which “is in resonance with the Ash‘arites” (204).⁶ Yet, other similarities may rather depend on parallels between the inner dynamics of both religions, such as those that pertain to the role of hermeneutics; there is a limited number of options here (e.g. literal vs. symbolic or figural interpretation), all of which seem to be endorsed by opposing factions in both religions.

Comparative Overview

If we compare the tables of contents of Islam and Evolution (henceforth I&E) and Reformed Theology and Evolutionary Theory (RT&ET) we immediately discover some interesting similarities and differences.⁷ Both books start with two introductory chapters that set the scene. In both cases, one of these chapters encapsulates an account of the history and nature of the neo-Darwinian synthesis, and even though the storylines are somewhat different we both agree on the fact that neo-Darwinian evolution “can be broken down into three core concepts” (30): deep time, common ancestry, and the mechanism of natural selection operating on random mutations. In the case of IaE, the second introductory chapter is about “Christian responses to evolution”, which makes sense since the Darwinian theory of evolution emerged in a predominantly Christian context. Yet, when discussing the four well-known Christian responses to evolution (young earth creationism, old earth creationism, intelligent design theory, and theistic evolutionism), Malik does not just want to clear the ground but also has an ulterior motive:

The purpose of this chapter is primarily to understand how some Christians may have certain theological and philosophical reservations that may or may not have parallels in Islamic thought, as we shall see in Chapters 3 and 4.

In this way, the mapping of Muslim responses to evolution is in a sense “primed” by the overview of the Christian ones, and I am not sure whether that is entirely satisfactory. In RT&ET, the second introductory chapter (or as a matter of fact, the first one) is devoted to an analysis of Reformed theology as a “distinctive stance” within the broader Christian tradition. Analogously, one might have expected a more thorough-going analysis of Ash‘arism in IaE in the first place—something that is now relegated to a few pages (180–187) in Chapter 6. It would have been interesting to see whether the same results would have emerged if the distinctive stance of Ash‘arism had been confronted with the main tenets of evolutionary theory in a more direct way, without taking Christian responses into account.

Moving on then to the central parts of both books, these are governed by research questions that are remarkably similar. IaE has as its main question: “if evolution is true, how much of it can be theologically accepted as per the principles of the Ash‘arite school of thought?” (8), whereas RT&ET, assuming for the sake of argument that “standard neo- or meta-Darwinian accounts of evolution are broadly correct” asks what that would mean “from a Reformed theological point of view” (70).⁸ Thus, in both cases direct confrontations or comparisons of scientific and religious assumptions are entertained. It is then interesting to see to what extent these confrontations yield similar results. What are the main areas of possible conflict and how are these being dealt with?

In RT&AT, six different tensions between Reformed theology and the neo-Darwinian synthesis are perceived, each of them related to one of its three layers, in the following way:

1. The notion of deep time gives rise to

   • the question how to interpret Scripture (i.e. in my case, the Bible), since Scripture seems to presuppose a very young earth (Ch. 3), and

   • the problem of evolutionary suffering and death among animals, since in the course of the geological timeline ever more complex forms of life emerged, all of which must also immediately have started to die (Ch. 4).

2. The notion of common ancestry prompts

   • the question of human uniqueness, since if we emerged from the animal world it seems that we humans are not very unique or special, let alone “created in the image of God” (Ch. 5), and

   • the issue of primeval history, which from a Reformed perspective was framed as a covenant with Adam and his posterity, Adam and Eve being conceived of as the single originating pair of humans (Ch. 6).

3. The notion of natural selection upon random mutations generates

   • the problem that evolutionary randomness or chance seems incompatible with theological notions of divine providence, sovereignty and guidance which are of paramount importance to the Reformed tradition (Ch. 7), and,

   • the conundrum whether (a) morality and (b) religion have also evolved through natural selection and if so how this can be squared with their alleged origin in God’s revelation (Ch. 8).⁹

It was, and still is, my suggestion that in this way we have covered all possible objections that might be made to evolutionary theory from a Reformed theological perspective (or the other way around). Interestingly, Malik’s investigation does not come up with any further issues that have to be dealt with by Muslims who are sympathetic to Ash‘arism.

Yet, Malik orders the various tensions he examines in a slightly different way, which can be reconstructed as follows.

1. The issue of Scriptural interpretation and hermeneutics takes pride of place in his exposition, covering his Chapters 3 (“Islamic scripture and evolution”), 9 (“Al-Ghazālī’s hermeneutics”) and 10 (“Creationism or evolution in Islamic scripture?”). Clearly, this is the primary domain where Malik sees protracted debates and potential problems.

2. The problem of evolutionary suffering and death—which is a variant of the well-known problem of (natural) evil—is dealt with very briefly by Malik in Ch. 6 (“Chance, naturalism, and inefficiency”) as “the problem of inefficiency” (asking why the evolutionary process is so arduous and involves so much suffering and death; 203–204), and then again equally briefly in Ch. 8 (“Morality and evolution”) as “the problem of evil” (254–256). After a brief discussion, Malik concludes that the problem of evil “isn’t an issue in the Ash‘arite paradigm” (256).

3. The issue of human uniqueness is remarkably absent from Malik’s explorations. Malik definitely does note the problems for traditional religious anthropologies caused by evolutionary thought (44–46), in that these anthropologies usually display a very high view of humanity as compared to the animal world, Yet, he does not address the evolutionary challenges to such a view, since, according to him, these challenges do not belong to “the primary issues of the discussion” (343 n.2; italics original).¹⁰ He promises, though, “future work” on (Ash‘arite) theological anthropology in the light of evolution.

4. The question what to make of Adam and Eve and our primeval history, deeply connected as it is with the topics of Scripture and hermeneutics (see (1)), is of paramount importance to Malik. In fact, this is the single issue that bothers him so much that his favored typology of various Muslim responses to neo-Darwinian evolution is solely informed by this issue.

5. The problem of evolutionary randomness vis-à-vis divine providence is extensively discussed in IaE, first in relation to naturalism (Ch. 6) and then in connection with intelligent design (Ch. 7).

6. Whereas the question whether morality might have emerged by natural selection—and if so what implications such a view has for the possibility of human moral agency—is taken up in Ch. 8 (“Morality and evolution”), the burning issue of the possible evolutionary and cognitive roots of religion—which has become hotly debated these days in the cognitive science of religion—is remarkably absent from Malik’s overview.

In what follows I will discuss Malik’s thoughts on each of these six issues in a bit more detail and compare these to the ways in which these issues play a role in Christian debates as they figure in my own work.

Six Issues for Further Comparison and Discussion

(1) Holy Scriptures and Hermeneutical Rules

As indicated, IaE displays a strong focus on issues related to Scripture and hermeneutics. This is quite understandable given the foundational status of the Qur’ān in Islam. To some extent, this status is comparable to that of the Bible in Reformed theology. Reformed theology is famous for not only subscribing to the sola Scriptura principle of Protestantism but even to consider tota Scriptura as the authoritative source of faith and theology (RT&ET, 22–23). Yet, it has often been pointed out that there is clear difference in the status of the Qur’ān in Islam and that of the Bible in Christianity: whereas in Islam the Qur’ān is considered the primary and unique instantiation of the Word of God, in Christianity this role is not ascribed to the Bible but to Jesus Christ. To be sure, the Bible is also seen as an instantiation of the Word of God, but that is because in all sorts of ways it testifies to the meaning and significance of Christ. Moreover, there is a general awareness in Christianity that the Bible has been written by ordinary human beings (albeit under the inspiration of God’s Spirit), and that its gradual composition can be studied through the normal means of historical scholarship. To be sure, within Christianity opinions on the impact of such scholarship on the reliability of the Bible differ widely, but it is generally acknowledged that the biblical authors did not write in a vacuum, so that in matters of interpretation their cultural backgrounds should be taken into account.

When attempting to correlate the Bible and evolutionary biology to each other, this insight has far-reaching consequences. For it implies that, for example, the first chapters of the book of Genesis have never been written in order to contradict scientific theories of evolution. Instead, in what they want to teach us about the relationships between God, the world and humanity, they just presuppose ancient near Eastern cosmological and cosmogonical ideas and depictions. Therefore, approaching such biblical texts with hermeneutical sensitivity means that a distinction has to be made between the proper meaning of these texts and the ancient near Eastern imagery in which they are couched. It is not always easy to make this distinction in a responsible and knowledgeable way, but over the last couple of decades (or even centuries) biblical scholars have helped us a lot in this regard with their manifold studies of the cultural context in which the Bible came into being.¹¹ For many Christians, the insights these scholars provided have helped to considerably reduce the tensions between their loyalty to Scripture on the one hand and their wish to accept established results of scientific inquiry (such as evolutionary theory) on the other.¹²

Now when reading IaE, it is remarkable that such cultural-historical considerations do not seem to play a big role in Islamic attempts to reconcile evolutionary theory with the interpretation of the scriptures (both the Qur’ān and the ḥadīths—though admittedly a bit more so in the case of the latter). No doubt, this is due to the foundational role of scripture in Islam, as mentioned before. This is how Malik introduces this role:

Most Muslims generally believe the Qur’ān is the unadulterated word of God as revealed to the Prophet since the inception of Islam 1,400 years ago. It has been transmitted through time by so many channels and people that to think it is a conspired and colluded project would be nonsensical. It is why the Qur’ān’s historical veracity has not been questioned by most Muslims (IaE, 87).

In this quote, by contrasting “historical veracity” and “a conspired and colluded project” Malik obscures from view the via media that he might have discussed here, viz. the idea that the Qur’ān is a document that emerged within a specific temporal and cultural context (of which it unavoidably bears the linguistic traces) and therefore, just like the Bible, might be examined using generally accepted means of historical scholarship. Very recently American religious studies specialist Stephen Shoemaker published a book in which he sets out to do precisely this, offering “the first systematic historical-critical study of the Qur‘an’s origins, drawing on methods and perspectives commonly used to study other scriptural traditions”.¹³ Now I am not in a position to either defend or question any of Shoemaker’s conclusions; but I would like to ask Malik whether he would be open to accept the legitimacy of Shoemaker’s methodical approach? Would not, in fact, his openness towards the biological sciences (which in the case of evolutionary theory strongly draw on various forms of historical research) require, or at least inspire, a similar openness to the methods and results of the historical-critical study of the Qur’ān? And would that then, in turn, make a difference to his hermeneutical approach of Qur‘ānic verses that bear upon the questions of origin?

In any case, I would have loved to see a somewhat more developed awareness of the historical backgrounds and cultural contexts in which the Islamic sources on which Malik draws have emerged. Even in the case of Al-Ghazālī, his main historical interlocutor, it is only in passing that Malik locates him in his historical-cultural context, especially by briefly mentioning with which fellow-thinkers Al-Ghazālī took issue. Could we not receive a more in-depth perspective on both Al-Ghazālī’s metaphysics and his hermeneutics if we knew more about the philosophical and theological streams of thought that influenced him, as well as about his socio-cultural context?

(2) Evolutionary Evil and Divine Goodness

Whereas many Christians consider the problems of evolutionary waste and suffering (or evolutionary evil, for short) the hardest part of neo-Darwinian evolution to come to terms with, for Malik, coming from the Ash‘ārite Muslim paradigm, evolutionary evil does not constitute a real problem at all. For in the Ash‘ārite tradition, God is not subject to a human’s moral or axiological evaluation. That is: it is not on us to judge something which God does as either good or wrong. Rather, “God is always good regardless of what He chooses to do” (252), since as “the absolute free agent” God has “total sovereignty” (252).

Although Malik realizes that “this understanding of God is vastly different from the Christian understanding of God being all-loving” (254), there are clear similarities between his Ash‘ārite position and the Reformed view. In both traditions, the omnipotence and sovereignty of God take center stage; and in both cases this leads to a dim view of the human capacity to judge the ways of God. As I wrote in RT&ET:

(…) it may be seen as part of ‘the Reformed stance’ not to be scrupulous when it comes to connecting God with (…) phenomena that may strike us as evil and abhorrent. This is combined with a strong awareness (e.g. in John Calvin) that we are not in a position to figure out the ways of God, since they are inscrutable to us. (129–130)

Thus, from a Reformed theological perspective I am sympathetic to the “solution” proposed by Malik (and/or by Al-Ghazālī).¹⁴ It may even be the case that, given the fact that God’s omnipotence does not include what is logically impossible (something which was also uphold by Al-Ghazālī), the evolutionary trajectory with all its waste and suffering was the only way for God to realize God’s goals. Again, we are not in a position to falsify this “only way” argument—perhaps we must even endorse it.¹⁵

Yet, this response to the problem of (evolutionary) evil collapses when it is stretched too far. Both for Christians and for Muslims, even those who emphasize God’s sovereignty above all else, the goodness of God, as articulated in prayers, confessions, songs, etc., is beyond all doubt. If we praise God for God’s goodness, however, it should be at least to some extent clear what we mean by that, otherwise it would make no sense. Therefore, there should be at least some connection between what we mean by goodness in everyday language, for example when we assess the moral quality of each other’s actions, and when we ascribe it to God. Reformed theologians like Calvin have therefore distanced themselves from radical late medieval nominalists who speculated about all sorts of morally dubious actions (e.g. lying) which God might perform de potentia absoluta.¹⁶ Calvin considered such speculations as inappropriate, since he refused to speak of God’s power independently of God’s moral character and goodness.¹⁷ Thus, even though Calvin, like Al-Ghazālī, had a high view of God’s sovereign will, he realized that the attempt to make God the greatest possible metaphysical compliments comes with a price.

For Reformed Christians, therefore, the problem of evil does not have any easy solutions. We will have to fight and often endure the presence of evil in all its ugly manifestations, trusting (without seeing) that in the eschaton the goodness of creation as a reflection of the goodness of God will become fully manifest. Though I realize that Malik takes Ash‘arism as his starting point—and therefore, quite understandably, does not engage in discussions about it but just assumes its truth—he might still wish to consider whether the Ash‘arite solution to the problem of evil is fully satisfactory, or perhaps a bit superficial. However this may be, Malik and I will agree on an important point in this connection: even though the problem of evil is clearly aggravated by evolutionary suffering (because of its “systemic” character; IaE, 238), this does not make it structurally different. Therefore, in so far as existing theodicies work with regard to natural and moral evil in general, they will most probably also work in the case of evolutionary evil (RT&ET, 132–133).

(3) Common Ancestry and Human Uniqueness

As indicated above, Malik does not extensively discuss the fact that our common ancestry with the animals (as posited by Darwinian evolution) is often seen as putting pressure on religious notions of human uniqueness. Whereas in RT&ET I devoted an entire chapter to this issue (RT&ET, 136–159), Malik needs only two pages (IaE, 302–304). In these pages, he discusses two verses from the Qu‘ran (95:4 and 17:7) that have sometimes been used to undergird human exceptionalism (i.e. the view that unlike animals humans have come into existence through direct creation rather than through evolutionary processes). He gives short shrift to such interpretations, though, showing that, when placed in their proper context, these verses do not apply to humans in general, but are meant to honor those people who believe in God and lead morally upright lives. Thus, they have nothing to do with how humankind as a species came into existence.

The reason why I needed a bit more space to discuss this issue, is that in Christianity the notion of humans as being created in the image of God is an essential notion across the board of its various traditions and denominations. In fact, most theological anthropologies in the Christian tradition are built upon it, and theories that unpack the meaning of the phrase “in our image, according to our likeness” (Gen. 1:26) are manifold and hotly debated. From the Genesis stories it is clear that being created in the image of God is indeed a prerogative of humankind; all other species have been created “according to their kinds” (Gen. 1:21, 24). So this ascribes a special status to humanity within the created world, and many Christians believe that this status is incompatible with an evolutionary origin of humans. In my view, they are wrong, since our creation in the image of God does not point to some unique-making physical or mental trait (let alone to our descent), but to our God-given relational capacities (which seem far more sophisticated than those of other species) and to the corresponding responsibility we bear as stewards of creation (RT&ET, 158–159).

Yet, the intuition that human evolution somehow bereaves us of our special status and dignity is very strong among Christian lay people. When years ago I challenged young earth creationism in a fairly nuanced way in a contribution to a Dutch newspaper in my country, this prompted many critical letters to the editor by the readers. One of these letters was so harsh in tone, that I decided to contact its writer, curious as I was to know what was behind his anger. It turned out that he was a Reformed dairy farmer living in the countryside of the Dutch Bible belt, and when I asked him by phone why he had become so angry with me about my views on evolution, he almost shouted “I do not want to stem from the apes!” Of course, the fact that I could point out to him that as a matter of fact we do not stem from the apes but share common ancestors with them, did not make a difference to him. In fact, this “anthropological concern” (as we may call it), i.e. the worry that our common ancestry with the animals bereaves us of our dignity, has been around from the very first stages of the reception of Darwin’s theory back in the 1860s.¹⁸

Interestingly, Malik points to only one Muslim thinker who shares this concern about human dignity, rejecting evolutionary theory because of it: the Syrian Sunnī theologian Muḥammad Saʿīd Ramaḍān Al-Būṭī (1929–2013). Al-Būṭī appealed to the Qur‘an verses mentioned above as well as to a verse that stipulates that “humans are a superior creation” (Qur‘an 45:13), which he considers to be incompatible with humans having emerged from the animal world (IaE, 119). Now I realize that the Islamic scriptures may not emphasize human uniqueness as much as the Christian ones—even though ḥadīth Bukhari (6277) states that “God created Adam in his image” (an expression that seems to me very relevant but is ignored by Malik, which is all the more strange since he does provide an extensive discussion of this particular ḥadīth, 324–325). Yet, I would be amazed if the sentiment that the theory of common ancestry must be rejected because it degrades our human dignity is not widespread among Muslims, just as it is among Christians. Since we lack, as it seems, any empirical evidence here (polls about people’s views on evolution unfortunately usually don’t go into so much detail), I am curious to know what Malik thinks of this based on his experiences.

The issue is important since it is linked with longstanding religious and philosophical traditions that highlight human superiority to animals and to the natural world, and that arguably in the long run have had disastrous ecological consequences. In light of the current ecological crises, it seems important that we learn to emphasize our profound human interconnectedness and entanglement with the natural world rather than our (alleged) superiority to other species.¹⁹ Whereas eco-theologians take the lead here, within Christianity at large there is still a long way to go to accept and internalize this point. Even though Christianity’s complicity in the current crises is presumably much larger than that of Islam (historically Christian countries have been responsible for by far the highest degrees of industrialization and carbon emissions), it would be interesting to find out how similar debates on the human-animal relationship in light of evolution have developed in contemporary Islamic discourse.

(4) Historical Adam and Human Origins

For Malik, the question whether Adam and Eve were our single first ancestors turns out to be the most vexed issue in his attempt to carve out an authentic Islamic position within the evolution debates. Taking Ash‘arism as his point of departure, Malik tentatively argues for the position which he calls “Adamic exceptionalism”, meaning by that the view that all forms of life (including humans) except Adam and Eve have come into existence through evolution. Interestingly, this position structurally coincides with the one recently defended by Christian computational biologist Joshua Swamidass (another contributor to this special issue).²⁰ It displays an intricate balance between the claims of evolutionary theory on the one hand, all of which are accepted, and the view that a historical Adam (as opposed to a merely literary one who stands for “everyman”) is a non-negotiable part of scriptural revelation. The result is a hybrid construction, with a specific passage from the Scriptures as it were plugged into evolutionary history: in the midst of humans that had already emerged through evolution, God miraculously created Adam and Eve in such a way that they and their offspring could interbreed with their contemporaries.

Indeed, in this way it is possible to do justice both to the data of science and to the traditional belief in Adam and Eve as our ancestors—even though Adam and Eve are not our first ancestors (in case there have been pre-Adamite humans), or at least not our only first ancestors (in case there have only been co-Adamite humans). Malik rightly points out the scientific advantages of this view as compared to creationism, or the view that all humans stem from Adam and Eve as a single couple. If Adam and Eve had been the first pair of humans from whom alone we all stem, then it seems God must be deceiving us in having created so many traces that point to human evolution (cf. the hominin fossils, etc.). Moreover, in its first stage humankind must have multiplied through incest, which is immoral (but perhaps wasn’t so at the time—a Muslim debate that runs stunningly parallel to one in conservative Christian quarters). But most of all, the descent of all humans from a single pair would conflict with the evolutionary law that a gene pool and therefore a population must have a certain variety and extension in order to produce healthy offspring that does not quickly go extinct. For these three reasons, Malik prefers Adamic exceptionalism to “human exceptionalism”—the view that no humans at all have been created through evolution since they all stem from Adam and Eve.

But why does Malik think Ash‘arism requires a historical Adam? This has to do with a couple of Qu‘ranic verses that, following Al-Ghazālī’s hermeneutical principles, can only be interpreted as referring to a ‘real’ Adam (and the weight of this testimony is confirmed by that of some less authoritative ḥadīths). Spotless as his argument here may be, one wonders whether for the same reason he should not actually adopt human exceptionalism. For, as Malik is well aware of (cf. IaE, 96, 314), there are other verses in the Qu‘ran which refer to Adam and Eve as the single couple from which we all originate. For example, Qur‘an 49:13 reads: “People, We created you all from a single man and a single woman, and made you into races and tribes so that you should recognise one another … ”. Does not such a verse—which remotely resembles a biblical verse like Acts 17:26—rule out the existence of co- and pre-Adamites with whose descendants the children of Adam and Eve then interbred?

Again, this discussion closely resembles a similar debate within (Protestant) Christianity. Many Christians as well stick to a historical Adam for scriptural reasons, and by some of them this is even seen as a yardstick of orthodoxy. Yet, according to Malik, in Christianity there are also theological reasons for upholding an historical Adam, since this is necessary for the doctrine of original sin—this notion, since it is absent in Islam, “being a fundamental theological difference between the two [religions]” (100). I doubt whether this is entirely true. First, like Muslims many Christians as well assume an angelic Fall that predates the Fall of Adam and Eve (drawing on biblical texts such as 2 Peter 2: 4 and Jude 6), so that moral evil actually precedes the actions of Adam and Eve.²¹ Second, the Qu‘ran as well depicts Adam as the one “who will cause damage and bloodshed” (Qur‘an 2:21), thus suggesting that through Adam sin became dominant on earth. It seems that Christians and Muslims may actually agree on these two points. Third, Malik (IaE, 69) seems to side with the old and much-repeated creationist rally cry, “No Adam no sin, no sin no atonement, no atonement no Saviour”²² so as to underscore the need for Christians to endorse the doctrine of original sin. However, even though Christians may have reasons to do so,²³ so-called theistic evolutionists (i.e. Christians in the “no exceptions” and “Adamic exceptionalism” camps) have pointed out that logically speaking the saving work of Jesus Christ is not dependent on how and why we came to be sinners but on the fact that somehow we all are sinners.²⁴ Nurture (or, in this case, a poisonous social environment) may play a role here just as well as nature. Accordingly, original sin is often reinterpreted in terms of the universality of sin—and I guess Muslims would not typically deny that sin has spread universally throughout humankind (the real theological difference between the two religions, it seems to me, being about the status of Jesus as the one who according to Christians redeems us from sin).²⁵

Having said that, Malik is right that at least according to some Christians there are indeed theological reasons for upholding a historical Adam. An intriguing example here is William Lane Craig, who rejects the doctrine of original sin and argues that “[i]nterpreting Adam as a purely symbolical figure, a sort of Everyman, that expresses the universality of human sin and fallenness would not undercut the gospel”.²⁶ Yet, in his view Adam’s historicity is important for another reason, namely to uphold the deity of Jesus Christ. If Adam were a mere literary figure, it seems (from biblical verses like Matthew 19:4–6) that Jesus would have believed a falsehood—which is Christologically impossible; thus, denial of the historical Adam “threatens to undo the deity of Christ”.²⁷ Needless to say that Muslim scholars would not easily agree with such reasoning. At the same time, Craig also claims that “[i]f the Scriptures clearly teach that there was a historical Adam at the headwaters of the human race, then the falsity of that doctrine would have a reverberatory effect on the doctrine of Scripture”²⁸—which means that (just like in Malik’s case) hermeneutical considerations play a role as well in his view. Anyhow, what unites Muslims and many Christians here is the feeling that it does matter whether or not we believe that contemporary humankind somehow started with a historical Adam and Eve.

(5) Natural Selection and Divine Providence

Coming now to the perceived conflict between the chance character of processes of natural selection and the goal-directness of God’s providence, I could not agree more with Malik that this is only a seeming contradiction.²⁹ To be sure, it is a very important point that may deter—and actually does deter—religious people of many different traditions from accepting evolution, since the idea that the universe and we ourselves are not here by pure coincidence but have a divine purpose is a core conviction of many (if not all) religions. It is quite understandable, therefore, that both in the past and in the present many debates have been raging over this very issue.³⁰ Indeed, both religious believers and atheistic evolutionists have argued that the conflict between evolutionary randomness and divine teleology is irreconcilable, so that we have to choose for the one or the other.

Yet, in my view Malik is quite right in arguing that “[i]t could easily be that God orchestrates the entire process, i.e. has complete knowledge and control over it, but executes it in a way that appears indeterministic to us” (199). Malik even allows for the possibility of ontological chance (as opposed to epistemic chance that is merely due to a human lack of knowledge) in this connection. That genetic mutations are random means that they are not preselected because of a certain goal that can be reached through them, but that they occur, indeed, randomly. It does not mean that on a macro-level the entire process cannot be installed, used and guided by God. We do not even need to endorse occasionalism, as Al-Ghazālī does (as well as, for that matter, Christian thinkers with a strong theocentric orientation, such as Jonathan Edwards), in order to reach this conclusion. Even when we ascribe a certain independence to natural laws, they can still have been instituted by God to work in certain specific ways.

According to some the process of natural selection can even be influenced by God so as to be steered in certain directions, e.g. the emergence of intelligent life. Although we are not able to empirically demonstrate such a view, neither can it be ruled out that a certain number of mutations is caused by God.³¹ On a meso-level (so not the micro-level of individual mutations nor the macro-level of overarching purposes), it has even been noted that there seems to be a certain directionality (or “convergence”) within the evolutionary process, in that in an intricate interplay of chance and necessity nature tends to meet evolutionary challenges time and again in the same way, for example by leading towards sophisticated camera-eyes in various animals.³² We might even consider whether God might make use of ontological chance (e.g. in the form of quantum processes) rather than determining each and every detail of natural history. Malik understandably rejects any notion of chance that implies ignorance on God’s part, but it is not clear to me whether he would also reject the notion of “deep chance”, i.e. chance that is not due to anyone’s ignorance but to reality itself. We can imagine that processes characterized by ontological chance are incorporated in higher-level systems that are teleological and purposeful, since God might make use of such processes.

In this connection, I disagree with Malik on the ways in which we might conceive of God’s action in the world. In my opinion the view that God may make use of chaos theory (as claimed by John Polkinghorne) or quantum processes (as Robert J. Russell and others have posited), even if these include strong ontological chance, need not be seen as “scientistic”. Malik labels them in this way because he thinks that these and other participants in the so-called Divine Action Project (DAP) which he discusses (187–193) have to reject the possibility of miracles. He literally writes:

The DAP is motivated by safeguarding and respecting the claims of the natural sciences. Accordingly, God cannot work against regularities of the natural world and instead must work with them, and hence miracles are ruled out of the equations from the onset. (IaE, 190–191; italics original)³³

It seems to me, however, that this is misguided. Even if some or all participants in the DPA-project do actually reject miracles, this does not follow from the project itself. For rather than a bifurcation (miraculous intervention versus non-interventionism) we may make a threefold distinction here:

1. God first of all works providentially by sustaining the universe from moment to moment and concurring with everything that happens within it.³⁴

2. God also works providentially without intervening in the natural course of events but by making use of its underlying patterns, e.g. by steering the paths of two people in such a way that they meet each other.

3. God finally works by intervening in the natural course of events by means of miracles.

Now the goal of DAP is to find out whether we can imagine ways in which (2) can be conceived, especially in relation to the laws of nature—and clearly in order to do that properly we need to remain within the boundaries of natural science. Obviously, however, this can be done without denying that God also works providentially in ways (1) and (3), which are of particular importance to Ash‘arites and other occasionalists. Therefore, I wonder whether Malik is right when he concludes that “Ash‘arism and the DAP are fundamentally at odds with one another” (191). Even on occasionalist assumptions, it is conceded that God makes use of certain patterns—it is precisely for that reason that occasionalism is not incompatible with science, as Malik tells us (IaE, 185). So neither need occasionalism be incompatible with attempts to locate certain forms of divine action within the world as described by science.

(6) Natural Religion and Supernatural Revelation

Whereas many religious believers experience one of the points (1)–(5) as the most vexed theological issue with regard to evolution, I myself feel most cross-pressured by this final issue—which is remarkably absent from Malik’s explorations (even though he refers to it very briefly, 245). The problem here is that if not only biological but also cultural phenomena can be explained as evolutionary adaptations that have emerged in the course of time, it is not far-fetched to also consider human religiosity and religions as products of evolution. Indeed, in recent years a plethora of possible evolutionary and cognitive mechanisms have been proposed that might have been operative here.³⁵ Malik is definitely right that most of these theories still have to be tested and that sometimes too hasty conclusions are drawn from them (IaE, 245).

Yet, perhaps we should seriously consider the possibility that at some stage in the future the cognitive science of religion (as this field of research is called) becomes more empirically robust, even to the extent of being able to offer substantiated answers to questions about the origin and development of religion(s). That might imply that we end up with entirely natural explanations for the phenomenon of religion, just as we now have entirely natural explanations for the current biodiversity. What would that mean for the classical religious conviction that belief in God ultimately rests in God’s self-revelation (even though we humans have subsequently twisted and thwarted this revelation in all sorts of ways)? Does not Islam as well teach an original divine revelation that explains why people believe in God at all? It would seem that such a supernatural explanation of religion will be made superfluous if we can sufficiently explain the emergence of religion through natural means.

Now of course we can counter that if such natural explanations turn out to be correct in the long run, God may have used such cognitive and evolutionary mechanisms and cognitive devices to make Godself known to humans. In that case the same applies to cultural evolution as to biological evolution: God may simply have used its mechanisms to fulfill God’s plan. But in science it is usually assumed that the most simple explanations are the better ones: Ockham’s razor requires that we should not adopt an extra explanatory layer for some phenomenon if there is no work for it to do. Now perhaps in this case there is work for it to do, so that a so-called “conjunctive explanation” is to be preferred. For it might still be true that we can make sense of things—that is, of all things, including the universe and our own lives—more compellingly (and perhaps even more simply) when we start from the paradigm that God is active in all this.³⁶ Even in that case, however, we would have to conclude that God not only arranged for biological phenomena to come about but also for belief in God to emerge in ways that are absolutely mind-boggling and profoundly perplexing. But then again, this may be seen as a witness to the incomparable greatness of God that surpasses all human understanding, as both Muslims and Christians acknowledge.

Conclusion

Shoaib Malik has provided a rich, thorough-going, clearly structured and well-balanced study on Islam and evolution from which I have learned tremendously. His study enables wholesale comparisons between the reception of evolutionary theory in Islamic Ash‘arism and other religious denominations. Comparing his Ash‘arite reception of neo-Darwinian evolution to my own Christian Reformed one, I have noted a couple of interesting similarities as well as remarkable differences. The way in which Malik takes seriously the holy scriptures of his tradition and profoundly engages with their exegesis in light of evolution is very much comparable to way in which this is done in my own Reformed tradition: Scripture is, indeed, holy, so we should always turn to Scripture in order to search for what it has to say on the questions of origin. Also, Malik’s solution to the (apparent) contradiction between evolutionary chance and divine providence or sovereignty is very similar to my own solution, and that of most other Christian theistic evolutionists (even though we may have different views on how to conceive of divine action). Finally, the way in which he deals with the possible emergence of morality along evolutionary lines will also be endorsed by most theistic evolutionists in the Christian tradition.

Turning to some differences, then, many Christians will probably feel uncomfortable with Malik’s denial of the problem of (evolutionary) evil as a serious issue (given his Ash‘arite presuppositions). Even though our theodicies and defences may help us to rationally cope with the problem of (evolutionary) evil, the amount of suffering, pain, predation, waste and decay that have plagued the natural world for millions of years is simply staggering, and on an existential level it is not easy to reconcile these with the goodness of God. Perhaps we can only walk by faith here, not by sight. Also, there is a clear difference between the rather timeless way in which Malik treats the Qu‘ran and the more historically sensitive approach to the Bible that many Christians have adopted as a result of historical biblical scholarship. The latter often leads to a more nuanced way of interpreting the biblical origin stories, as different in scope and aim from contemporary scientific questions of origin.

On another note, from a Christian perspective both theological anthropology and the doctrine of revelation have to be revisited and finetuned in light of evolution, the first because of the ramifications of common ancestry, and the second because of contemporary cognitive theories of the rise and persistence of religion. It seems that, from his Ash‘arite perspective, Malik considers these topics as being of secondary importance. Conversely, even though many Christians still hold that evolutionary theory implies naturalism and atheism, on a theoretical level this is no longer a vexed issue in a Christian context, whereas Malik treats it as such in Islam. After explaining, most Christians can see the difference between evolutionary theory as a scientific theory and evolutionism as an atheist ideology.

Clearly, there is space for further discussions and comparisons of the issues involved, and I look forward to any future steps into this direction.

Disclosure Statement

This publication was made possible through support of the Templeton World Charity Foundation. The opinions expressed in it do not necessarily reflect the views of TWCF.

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Notes on contributors

Gijsbert van den Brink

Gijsbert van den Brink is Professor of Theology & Science at Vrije Universiteit Amsterdam. His publications include Philosophy of Science for Theologians (Frankfurt: Peter Lang, 2009), Reformed Theology and Evolutionary Theory (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2020) and Test All Things (Eugene: Wipf & Stock, 2023).

Notes

1 Cf. John Perry and Joanna Leidenhag, Science-Engaged Theology (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2023); https://doi.org/10.1017/9781009091350.

2 Pagenumbers within brackets in the body of the text refer to Shoaib Ahmed Malik, Islam and Evolution. Al-Ghazāli and the Modern Evolutionary Paradigm (Abingdon: Routledge, 2021).

3 In addition to the sources Malik mentions here one might also think of Kojiro Nakamura, “Was Ghazali an Ash‘arite?,” Memoirs of the Research Department of the Toyo Bunko 51 (1993), 1–24.

4 It is interesting to note that, ever since the publication of John Hedley Brooke’s Science and Religion. Some Historical Perspectives (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991), this emphasis on the key importance of the complex particularities of religious traditions and scientific theories has gained much traction in historical research on science-and-religion interactions, but less so in systematic work on science and religion. Thus, Malik is a fortunate exemption here.

5 Gijsbert van den Brink, Reformed Theology and Evolutionary Theory (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2020). As I explain in this book (12–14), the Reformed tradition should not be equated tout court with Calvinism, since it also sprang from contemporaries of Calvin such as Zwingli, Bullinger and Bucer and includes later developments like Barthianism.

6 Cf. Denis Alexander, “Creation and Evolution,” in The Blackwell Companion to Science and Religion, ed. J. B. Stump and Alan G. Padgett (Chichester: Blackwell, 2012), 233–245 (238); see also Denis Alexander, Creation or Evolution: Do We Have to Choose?, Rev. ed. (Oxford: Monarch Books, 2014).

7 Even though Malik refers to my book one time in passing (Islam and Evolution, 79 n.1), I take it that this is a late insertion in a text that at that time was already nearly finished; in any case, there are no traces of interaction with Reformed Theology and Evolutionary Theory, so that we can safely assume that both books were written independently of each other.

8 Reformed Theology and Evolutionary Theory, 70. It seems there is a slight difference of emphasis here between the two of us, in that Malik mainly wants to know which aspects of evolutionary theory can be accepted from an (uncontested) Ash‘arite perspective, whereas I primarily want to know which aspects of Reformed theology can be accepted from an (uncontested) evolutionary perspective. Perhaps, however, both of us would not want to predetermine which side we would have to choose if we perceived an insoluble conflict between (our interpretations of) the religious and the scientific viewpoints.

9 The final chapter of Reformed Theology and Evolutionary Theory (Ch. 9) wraps up the preceding discussions by asking whether there is “any other business” to be dealt with, very briefly examining in this connection the so-called “domino theory” on the one hand and various full-fledged evolutionary theologies on the other.

10 At least, that is what I infer from Malik’s statement that he gave priority to what he “felt were the primary issues of the discussion” (343 n2).

11 See e.g., to mention only one example among many possible others, the work of John Walton in this area, the most well-known titles of which are: John H. Walton, Ancient Near Eastern Thought and the Old Testament. Introducing the Conceptual World of the Hebrew Bible (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2006); The Lost World of Genesis One. Ancient Cosmology and the Origins Debate (Downers Grove: IVP, 2009); The Lost World of Adam and Eve. Genesis 2–3 and the Human Origins Debate (Downers Grove: IVP, 2015).

12 See also Rope Kojonen’s highlighting of this possible difference between Christianity and Islam in his response to IaE elsewhere in this issue (section “Towards Better Interreligious Dialogue In Science and Religion”).

13 Stephen J. Shoemaker, Creating the Qur’ān. A Historical-Critical Study (Oakland: University of California Press, 2022), back cover. I realize that the title may be perceived as a bit provocative, since most Muslims would define the Qur‘an as uncreated.

14 Even though he accounts for his choice to focus on Al-Ghazali in an appropriate way (8–10), it is not entirely clear to me whether Malik zooms in on Al-Ghazālī only to give his project a clear focus or whether he actually sides with his views. In this connection, although he is not entirely silent on his personal development (13), Malik might have expanded a bit on his intellectual biography vis-à-vis Islam and evolution (e.g. in what kind of religious environment was he raised, which factors made him change his mind, etc.?), since when it comes to such a sensitive issue as religion and evolution it is clear that our “positionality” matters.

15 Among others, the “only way argument” is defended by Christopher Southgate, The Groaning of Creation. God, Evolution, and the Problem of Evil (Louisville: WJK Press, 2011), 29, and Peter van Inwagen, The Problem of Evil (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006), 123. The view that we humans are unable to morally evaluate God’s reasons for acting or refraining from action is known as “skeptical theism”; for an introduction, see Trent Dougherty and Justin P. McBrayer, eds., Skeptical Theism: New Essays (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014).

16 In fact, Al-Ghazālī’s view on this issue as sketched by Malik (IaE, 253) comes quite close to the speculations of these radical nominalists (as noted by Malik himself, 258 n.14).

17 John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion III, 23, 2 (“And we do not advocate the fiction of ‘absolute power’ … ”), and cf. Gijsbert van den Brink, Almighty God. A Study of the Doctrine of Divine Omnipotence (Kampen: Kok Pharos, 1993), 88–89.

18 Cf. the so-called Wilberforce-Huxley debate at Oxford in 1860, which became famous for its acrimonious tone. See e.g. David Livingstone, “Myth 17: That Huxley Defeated Wilberforce in Their Debate on Evolution and Religion”, in Galileo Goes to Jail, and Other Myths about Science and Religion, ed. Ronald L. Numbers (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2009), 152–160.

19 The profound interconnections and symbiotic interdependences between humans and the natural world (including not only animals but also plants, microbes, soil, oceans, etc.) is are impressively highlighted in e.g. Norman Wirzba, This Sacred Life. Humanity’s Place in a Wounded World (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2021), esp. 63–122.

20 See S. Joshua Swamidass, The Genealogical Adam and Eve. The Surprising Science of Universal Ancestry (Downers Grove: IVP Academic, 2019). Malik is aware of the similarity between his proposal (adopted from David Solomon Jalajel) and that of Swamidass (149 n.25).

21 See e.g. Gregory Boyd, Satan and the Problem of Evil (Downers Grove: IVP, 2001).

22 George McCready Price, Back to the Bible (Washington, DC: Review & Herald, 1920), 124.

23 On this debate see my essay “Questions, Challenges, and Concerns for Original Sin,” in Finding Ourselves after Darwin. Conversations on the Image of God, Original Sin, and the Problem of Evil, ed. Stanley P. Rosenberg (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2018), 117–129. Historically, the doctrine of original sin did not imply the so-called “cosmic fall”, i.e. the idea that nature went awry (resulting in animal death etc.) as a result of Adam’s sin. In general, the latter is a much later (16th century) development in Christian theology. See on this point Piet Slootweg, Teeth and Talons Whetted for Slaughter. Divine Attributes and Suffering Animals in Historical Perspective (1600–1961) (Kampen: Summum, 2022), 373–376. So these two notions of original sin and the cosmic Fall should not be conflated (as Malik, IaE 69, seems to do).

24 E.g. George Murphy, “Roads to Paradise and Perdition: Christ, Evolution and Original Sin,” Perspectives on Science and Christian Faith 58 (2006), 109–118 (110).

25 In this connection, Christians will hardly recognize their faith in Malik’s phrasing that “while he [= Christ] died on the cross and assumed the burden of humanity’s sins, he could not complete his work” (69); according to the Gospel of John (19:30) Jesus actually said “It is finished/completed” just before he died. The reason why nevertheless history goes on, according to Christians, is because God wants “all to come to repentance” (2 Peter 3:9).

26 William Lane Craig, In Quest of the Historical Adam. A Biblical and Scientific Exploration (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2021), 5.

27 Craig, Historical Adam, 7–8; later on, by the way, Craig denies that in explaining the story of Adam and Eve (in Matthew 19:45), Jesus asserted its historicity (221), and rather argues that Paul’s thinking of Adam’s fall as “in some sense the fount of sin” requires “the affirmation of a historical Adam” (242). So it seems his book is not exactly balanced.

28 Craig, Historical Adam, 6. After extensive biblical-theological and scientific explorations, Craig situates Adam in the very remote past, considering him as a member of the species Homo heidelbergensis who became truly human through God’s special care (note that for Craig it is not important that Adam was exempted from the evolutionary chain).

29 Malik also devotes a chapter to the discussion of Intelligent Design as an alternative to universal natural selection. Since Rope Kojonen already focuses on this chapter in his reply to IaE (“An Islamic Mirror on the Theology of Design Arguments and Creationism”, this issue), and since strictly speaking ID does not belong to the vexed issues vis-à-vis evolution (it rather is an alternative for evolution), I won’t discuss Malik’s evaluation of ID-theories here.

30 See my Reformed Theology and Evolutionary Theory, 204–222, and cf. Gijsbert van den Brink, “'Theology and Evolution,” St Andrews Encyclopaedia of Theology (2022), ed. Brendan N. Wolfe et al., §4.5; https://www.saet.ac.uk/Christianity/TheologyandEvolution.

31 Cf. Alexander Pruss, “A New Way to Reconcile Creation with Current Evolutionary Biology,” Proceedings of the American Catholic Philosophical Association 85 (2011): 213–222.

32 Cf. Simon Conway Morris, Life’s Solution: Inevitable Humans in a Lonely Universe (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003).

33 Malik has elaborated on this issue in a well-researched paper, co-written with Nazif Muhtaroglu, “How much Should or Can Science Impact Theological Formulations? An Ashʿarī Perspective on Theology of Nature,” European Journal of Analytic Philosophy 18:2 (2022), 5–36.

34 For a succinct overview of the Christian doctrine of providence, see Cornelis van der Kooi and Gijsbert van den Brink, Christian Dogmatics. An Introduction (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2017), 233–244; for an extensive analysis, see David Fergusson, The Providence of God. A Polyphonic Approach (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2018).

35 For an overview, see e.g. Claire White, An Introduction to the Cognitive Science of Religion. Connecting Evolution, Brain, Cognition and Culture (London: Routledge, 2021). A sound analysis of CSR’s consequences for the epistemic status of religious belief is offered by Hans van Eyghen, Arguing from the Cognitive Science of Religion. Is Religious Belief Debunked? (London: Bloomsbury, 2020).

36 Cf. Gijsbert van den Brink, “Are Theological Explanations Superfluous? The Cognitive Science of Religion and Ockham’s Razor,” in Conjunctive Explanations in Science and Religion, ed. Diarmid A. Finnegan, David H. Glass, Mikael Leidenhag and David N. Livingstone (London: Routledge, 2023), 215–235.