The question of the relations between Muslims and Jews in late niineteenth-Century Morocco is a fascinating and complex subject. Much has been written about the discrimination which most members of the Jewish community in Morocco experienced at the hands of the Muslims. That the Muslim Majority regarded the Jewish minority as inferiors cannot be denied. Historically, Islamic governments have relegated Christians and Jews to a lower status as ahl'l-kitâb or ‘People of the Book’, who possessed a religious book, although not the religious book. In the case of Morocco the Jews found their freedom of action circumscribed by certain regulations. First of all, in return for the payment of a poll tax, the jizya, the sultan guaranteed Jewish life and property. In areas which were beyond government control, Jews fell under the patronage of powerful figures in their regions. Secondly, their testimony was considered invalid in Muslim courts. Thirdly, they were compelled, quite frequently, to wear special clothing and to remove their shoes when passing in front of mosques. Fourthly, Jews were often not permitted to carry arms or ride horses. And lastly, the display of a properly respectful attitude toward Muslims was expected.

The rapid rise in the population of the Ottoman Empire in the sixteenth century is well known. Ömer Lütfi Barkan long ago published a table showing that twelve important Ottoman cities grew from a combined population of 142,562 in 1520/1530 to a population of 271,494 in 1571/1580; likewise he has shown that the population of five major provinces in Anatolia grew 59.9 per cent in the same period, from 872,610 to 1,360,474. Fernand Braudel supports the thesis that there was a general 100 per cent population growth throughout the Mediterranean basin in the sixteenth century, and Barkan claims that growth at the Ottoman end of the Mediterranean was even more dynamic. However, there is still need for specialized studies of Ottoman population and its flux in the sixteenth century.

The ethical theory of the Mu'tazila is properly called ‘rationalism’, because it held that the values of human and divine actions are knowable in principle by natural human reason. Since this doctrine and related parts of the theory (mentioned in the next section) were the prevailing ethical theories in the major preIslamic religious cultures of Iran and Byzantium, the question easily arises, to what extent were the Mu'tazila as the first systematic theologians in Islam indebted to these cultures for their ethics?

Ibn Ṭufayl (d. 1185), the Spanish Muslim philosopher, is at once a scientist, a mystic, and a believer. His science-oriented spirit, his mysticism, and his religious belief fall naturally into their proper places within the framework of his philosophy. This philosophy is imbedded in his distinguished treatise Ḥayy Bin Yaqẓân. In this work, he fuses his comprehensive knowledge of various disciplines in an all-embracing view of things which bears the results of his intellectual labor and culminates in a science-based mysticism. In preparing for the presentation of his views, Ibn Tufayl writes an Introduction to his work which includes a rigorous criticism of the philosophies of his predecessors. This Introduction imbues the treatise with philosophical seriousness and systematic value, and reveals the author's metaphysical presuppositions and basic motives for writing Ḥayy Bin Yaqẓân. He also draws a fundamental distinction between naturalistic knowledge and mystical gnosis, two methods of cognition that are not, in his opinion, mutually exclusive, and the rigorous training in the first necessarily leads to the, attainment of the latter. Such a distinction determines the entire philosophic plan of the treatise which commences with Ḥayy's early scientific and conceptual development and culminates in his inevitable union with the Necessary Being. Had Ibn Ṭufayl not written this Introduction, a great amount of scholarly work and historical investigation would have been required to trace the historical and intellectual threads with which Ḥayy Bin Yaqẓân was uniquely woven.

In 1970, I published in Mélanges de l'Institut Dominicain d'Etudes Orientales (MIDEO) a long article entitled ‘La civilisation musulmane dans l'æuvre du Professeur von Grunebaum’ which was part of a study in preparation for publication. This study although sympathetic was a very objective approach to the works of Gustave E. von Grunebaum. He appreciated it but urged me to make a personal critical evaluation of his work, without hesitating, if necessary, to contradict any of his opinions. As a close friend, I accepted willingly.I composed it under the form of 'some questions posited to M. Grunebaum'. He read my essay and found the questions provocative andinteresting enough to answer. But alas, death snatched him before the essay was published. As tribute to his memory and as a historical document I thought it would be interesting to publish it as is, without any recasting.