Some texts do not reach us through the randomness of archives, but through a discreet chain of transmission and care. This interview with Malek Bennabi, recorded in Tripoli (Libya) on 24 January 1973, belongs to this rare category. It represents one of his last public statements, delivered without ceremony, yet with that calm depth characteristic of those who have reached the threshold — before words withdraw.

Here you will find neither final confession nor staged goodbye. Bennabi does not tell his own story: he continues to observime, questions, puts things in order. He speaks of philosophy without losing himself in it, of religion without freezing it, of civilization without turning it into ideology. Through Al-Ghazali and Ibn Rushd, East and West, politics and spirituality, one connecting thread remains whole: the priority of meaning over power, of responsibility over accumulation.

This profound conversation strikes us as much through what it says as through what it hints at. We sense the quiet worry of a world full of objects, technologies and talk, yet threatened by a deeper inner damage. Bennabi uses neither dramatic accusation nor condemnation; he identifies with almost surgical precision the signs of a humanity at risk of losing its balance — not from lack of resources, but from too much confusion. The careful reader will recognize here a question running through our time, that of a century where horror often hides behind the normal.

This text does not call for quick reading. It requires slowness, openness, even a kind of discipline. Behind the clear exchange lies a crossing: from the thinker’s voice to the reader’s responsibility. Bennabi would fall silent forever just months later; what remains is the trust he places in us.

To publish this interview today means accepting that it should not only be read, but understood and carried forward. Not as an intellectual museum piece, but as a doorway — where words end, and the demanding work of thinking begins.

Interview with Ali Mustapha Al-Mousrati (Tripoli, Libya, January 24, 1973)

Ali Mustapha Al-Mousrati: What motivated you to study philosophy?

Malek Bennabi: In truth, I did not specifically study philosophy; I approached it alongside certain friends, including Mr. Mohamed Hamouda Ben Saï, who at the time was preparing a doctoral thesis at the Sorbonne.

A.M.A.: What was his doctoral thesis about? And what topics did your philosophical discussions cover?

M.B.: Mr. Ben Saï’s doctoral thesis at the Sorbonne focused on the life and works of Al-Ghazali. That indeed encouraged me to take an interest in philosophy, both as a pastime and as a means to better understand Islamic and Arab issues in their intellectual and civilizational depth. Some of the readers of my books may think and say that Malek Bennabi is a philosopher, but in reality, I am not.

A.M.A.: Perhaps in the sense of “seeker of wisdom”; and it is true that you are both wise and a seeker…

M.B.: Certainly, we are all, God willing, in search of wisdom in accordance with the guidance of the supreme leader of this nation, Muhammad, may God’s peace and blessings be upon him.

A.M.A.: Since you mentioned Al-Ghazali, I have a question about him, or rather your opinion of him; history notes that Imam Al-Ghazali was at the center of a controversy, a debate opposing him to Ibn Rushd (Averroes), the philosopher who reacted to Al-Ghazali’s remarkable book The Incoherence of the Philosophers (Tahafut al-Falasifa). Al-Ghazali’s greatness is justified by his knowledge of all currents of thought, which he carefully studied and commented on rigorously. Ibn Rushd, who was also a great figure, criticized Al-Ghazali. From a philosophical and intellectual point of view, whose opinion do you prefer? More specifically, which approach do you think is more beneficial for Islamic thought, Ibn Rushd’s method or Al-Ghazali’s?

(As usual, when it comes to responding to a question or expressing an opinion, Professor Malek replied after a brief pause. He then proceeded to defend Al-Ghazali while acknowledging Ibn Rushd’s contributions and explaining the notion of civilization in philosophy, or philosophy from the perspective of civilization.)

M.B.: We believe that both attempted to offer solutions to the problems of a society that had begun a process of intellectual deviation combined with certain political decline. That said, it seems to me that Al-Ghazali was more aware than Ibn Rushd of the urgent need for Islamic society to rethink and renew its relationship with religion. One could argue—as some Muslim thinkers like Ibn Sab’în did, who criticized Al-Ghazali more than Ibn Rushd—that Al-Ghazali long vacillated between philosophy and Sufism. He wrote about this impression himself. But if we want to explain the position of a man of his caliber, who observed the great catastrophes beginning to befall the Muslim world at that time—the early Crusades—which even led Zaki Mahmoud to accuse him…

A.M.A.: Dr. Zaki Mahmoud reconsidered his position later in life; he changed his mind and withdrew his accusation.

M.B.: Yes, fortunately. May his soul rest in peace! Al-Ghazali was not, as Ibn Sab’în initially thought, entirely absorbed in his prayers and religious devotions while the Crusaders threatened Islamic fortresses. He was a fighter; a fighter of a particular kind, who struggled through thought and asceticism, a man who gave an example, a man who sacrificed all that was precious to him—his family and children—to fully experience the suffering of the Muslim community in all its details and manifestations.

A.M.A.: Indeed, that was Al-Ghazali’s position, which his own people could neither understand nor appreciate fully.

M.B.: Unfortunately, they did not understand him, to the point that he complained, saying: “I have woven…”

A.M.A.: You are referring to his poem:

“I wished to weave for them a refined tapestry

But finding no weaver of its measure

I resolved to break my loom.”

M.B.: Even if he was not the author of these lines, they perfectly suited him. This illustrates the sorrow of a man who felt alien in his own society. But this alien was convinced he had played an important intellectual role, attempting to reform Islamic thought after its deviations in Greek philosophy and philosophy in general.

A.M.A.: You mean that Al-Ghazali contributed to efforts to reconnect with Islamic intellectual identity, independently of philosophical reflection?

M.B.: Exactly; he tried…

A.M.A.: Unlike Al-Farabi (Alpharabius) and Ibn Sina (Avicenna), who, along with their peers, were greatly influenced by translations?

M.B.: Immensely… Whereas Al-Ghazali, the most authentic among them, strove, when faced with Greek thought, to remain, above all, an Arab Muslim.

A.M.A.: Returning to Ibn Rushd, regarding his opinion and influence, one might think that Al-Ghazali prevailed over Ibn Rushd in this debate.

M.B.: Ibn Rushd was certainly a virtuous man who sought to correct what could be seen as extremism in Al-Ghazali’s Sufism. Indeed, Ibn Rushd embodied objective thought.

He [Ibn Rushd] thus rendered a service not only to us but also to the West in general. Indeed, it is to him that the title of “Commentator” was attributed—even by the acknowledgment of Western scholars themselves.

A.M.A.: Or the “Second Master.”

M.B.: Exactly. They say “Commentator,” which is what “Second Master” means: one who first assimilated and commented on Aristotle’s philosophy and then introduced it to the West. Thanks to Ibn Rushd, Aristotle’s texts reached the Western world.

A.M.A.: But the West sometimes denies this, or in a way casts a shadow of suspicion over his contribution in this domain.

M.B.: That is true. The long controversy involving Ibn Rushd and Thomas Aquinas is often presented by Western scholars as a confrontation between the angelic Thomas Aquinas—considered an angelic, spiritual, inspired teacher—and Satan. This was the prevailing stereotype at the time. In their view, Satan represented philosophy, which was embodied by Ibn Rushd; popular imagery of the period even depicts Thomas Aquinas triumphing over a serpent, the serpent symbolizing Ibn Rushd and the forces of evil.

A.M.A.: And what about the greatness of Ibn Rushd, who so greatly enriched Western knowledge?

M.B.: One must not overlook this aspect of Ibn Rushd’s personality. While Al-Ghazali’s identity was primarily Arab-Islamic, Ibn Rushd’s had a dual dimension: Arab-Islamic and Western-universal—primarily Western, given that a chair in his honor has existed in the West, particularly at the Sorbonne, for over two centuries.

A.M.A.: Still on Ibn Rushd, what do you think of what Farah Antoine wrote and the controversy between him and Mohamed Abdou regarding Ibn Rushd? Perhaps you read Farah Antoine’s articles in the journal Al-Djam’îa (الجامعة) and Mohamed Abdou’s writings afterward. Do you think Farah Antoine was unfair to Ibn Rushd?

M.B.: I must admit I have not read what Farah Antoine wrote on the subject, but I have read an excellent study by Mahmoud Kacem (محمود قاسم)…

A.M.A.: Our professor and friend; he was our teacher in Egypt at the Faculty of Islamic Sciences after returning from Europe…

M.B.: Yes, a dear friend, who wrote a doctoral thesis on Ibn Rushd entitled Ibn Rushd, the Maligned Philosopher (ابن رشد، المفترى عليه الفيلسوف), in which he refuted the arguments of Ibn Rushd’s detractors with irrefutable historical evidence. After comparing Ibn Rushd’s writings with those of Thomas Aquinas, he rightly concluded—according to me—that Thomas Aquinas plagiarized Ibn Rushd’s ideas. Our friend Mahmoud did excellent work.

A.M.A.: Equally important and natural was the work of Mohamed Abdou in defending Ibn Rushd, including his main writings: Decisive Treatise on the Concordance of Religion and Philosophy (فصل المقال فيما بين الحكمة والشريعة من الاتصال), as well as his work on Islamic jurisprudence (Fiqh), Bidâyat al-Mujtahid wa Nihâyat al-Muqtasid (بداية المجتهد ونهاية المقتصد). Returning to the present day, could you name three, four, or five contemporary Arab and Muslim thinkers you admire, whose work you respect, and whom you would invite to a strictly intellectual discussion?

M.B.: When one addresses such a topic, one is automatically drawn to Cairo…

A.M.A.: Undoubtedly the mother of the Arabs. One may disobey one’s mother, but a mother remains a mother…

M.B.: That is true, of course… For example, we could mention Dr. Ali Abdelwahad Wafi regarding sociology, to whom we owe much in that regard.

A.M.A.: Could you explain his major contribution and why you singled him out among the many names along the banks of the Nile?

M.B.: He deserves great credit for restoring to the crown of Islamic culture this gem we call the Muqaddimah (Prolegomena) of Ibn Khaldun, by verifying it; he also made other remarkable contributions in the fields of economics and women’s issues.

A.M.A.: So you consider Dr. Ali Abdelwahad Wafi’s work on Ibn Khaldun’s Muqaddimah more useful than what Abou Khaldoun Sati Al-Husri (ساطع الحصري أبوخلدون) accomplished in his study on the same topic?

M.B.: I believe Abdelwahad Wafi’s work is the first attempt by a Muslim Arab to restitute the Muqaddimah in its true form.

A.M.A.: Another figure notable for intellectual creativity?

M.B.: Dr. Mahmoud Kacem is no less deserving in this regard than Dr. Wafi. I count him among the most serious intellectuals.

A.M.A.: (With a touch of surprise and sadness in his voice, Bennabi wondered)

M.B.: Yet I do not understand why his name has become so little known, as if erased! Why?

A.M.A.: It is a phenomenon that deserves study and must be remedied. No doubt the routine of administrative work kills intellect. Dr. Kacem is a teacher and, I believe, a university rector or board member; his heavy professional responsibilities may inhibit his intellectual momentum. Added to that are, sometimes, the destructive effects of society’s lack of appreciation for intellectual work and creativity.

M.B.: Perhaps…

A.M.A.: (Bennabi then let out a deep sigh and fell silent. I broke the silence, saying) I always advise my brothers here not to draw writers and authors into administrative functions.

M.B.: You are absolutely right. Our writers and thinkers should be free from any administrative ties. In my case, fortunately, the Algerian government freed me from all such obligations (laughs); it relieved me of all positions of responsibility and functions…

A.M.A.: Professor, you are a treasure; a treasure is not to be hidden, whereas administrative work is just burial. It is certainly an advantage for the Algerian people and for Muslim and Arab peoples that they allowed you to enjoy an environment conducive to generous intellectual production. Assigning an administrative function to someone is a way of limiting their freedom and scope; and brilliant minds like Malek Bennabi’s are exceedingly rare…

(Bennabi muttered some unintelligible words before saying, “They freed me, may God bless them”; then he fell into thought, as if he wanted to say something, but remained silent.)

A.M.A.: Which book are you currently working on?

M.B.: I am currently occupied with completing my memoirs, which I began with The Witness of the Century [2], of which the first two volumes have already been published.

A.M.A.: These are magnificent and unique testimonies of your era. How many volumes do you expect to write?

M.B.: I hope to complete what remains. I expect there will be five volumes in total.

A.M.A.: You wrote most of your books in French, which several translators have rendered into Arabic, particularly Abdessabour Chahine, Omar Kamel Meskaoui, and Marwan Qanawati. Which of these translations satisfies you the most, objectively speaking?

M.B.: There is no doubt that Brother Abdessabour Chahine, who has become a prominent figure in Arab-Islamic thought, is the most capable of undertaking such work while ensuring precision and fidelity to the original text.

A.M.A.: How do you explain that?

M.B.: Probably because we have known each other for a long time.

A.M.A.: He is an Egyptian professor; where did you meet him?

M.B.: Yes, he is Egyptian, a graduate of the Faculty of Dar al-Ulum. I knew him during the years I spent in Cairo as a political refugee during the Algerian Revolution.

A.M.A.: And among historical Algerian thinkers, whom would you propose as models, by which I mean non-contemporary figures?

M.B.: (Bennabi laughs, then says) Here begins the great battle; if I say something, my Tunisian brother will protest… because I am, above all, proud of Ibn Khaldun… the Tunisian, the Egyptian, or others will argue with me…

A.M.A.: This is always the case with great global figures, as illustrated by the controversy regarding Ibn Mandhur (ابن منظور) [3]; whether Tunisian, Egyptian, or otherwise, he is a source of pride for all. Regarding this, as you know, Ibn Khaldun was exasperated by the instability of his environment, and if it were not for the attention shown to him by Egypt, following his dispute with the jurists of his country, he would not have had the necessary protection. Egypt entrusted him with important positions of responsibility, including that of judge, and contributed to the fortification of his genius. Had he lived in a restrictive environment, he would surely have withered.

M.B.: That is true… Such is the condition of great men, and such is Egypt’s attitude toward them; it provides opportunities for growth and protection to all giants, such as Ibn Khaldun the Maghrebi—let us say so at least to avoid misunderstandings—and Al-Izz Ibn Abdessalam (العز بن عبد السلام الدمشقي) [4].

A.M.A.: Professor, what are you reading at the moment? What is the last book you read this week or this month?

M.B.: Generally, when I am traveling, I do not read; I write instead.

A.M.A.: What have you produced during your current trip?

M.B.: A book: The Muslim in the World of the Economy, a study on The Role of the Muslim in the Last Third of the 20th Century, and a book currently in print titled Majalis Dimashq (The Damascene Circles).

A.M.A.: You are referring to your lectures and other engagements in Damascus?

M.B.: Yes, my latest lectures in Damascus, where I spent three months. Generous brothers among the attendees kindly recorded them first, transcribed them next, and they are now being prepared for publication under the title The Damascene Circles. This is the kind of activity I engage in while traveling; I do not read.

A.M.A.: And what have you read most recently at home?

M.B.: In recent years, I have begun, especially since I was relieved of all administrative responsibilities, to devote my time at home in Algeria to reading about Islamic heritage, because I suffered somewhat from a lack of reading in this area.

A.M.A.: Was this due to your many obligations or because of the language barrier (Arabic) before mastering it?

M.B.: Because I was very busy… and also because my cultural training was completely foreign, so I wanted to complete it by acquiring some knowledge of the Islamic heritage in Arabic. And, thank God, I consider that I have read a great deal so far.

A.M.A.: Professor, you have met many figures in power in the East and the West; you have met Mao Tse-tung—what do you think of him?

M.B.: Everyone should admire this man for the fact that he sacrificed everything a human being can sacrifice for the sake of his community and his nation. He dedicated his entire life to serving his nation. When we met him as an Algerian delegation in.

M.B.: When we visited China in 1964, a program was organized for us that included visiting the places where his movement began—or more precisely, where he was shaped as a political figure—for example, the place where he slept, the first school established—if I recall correctly, in Canton—to propagate his ideology, etc. Anyone who meets him sees an extremely modest man, deeply aware of all major issues, including those that might escape the ordinary citizen in his country. While ordinary people pay more attention to distant events than to their immediate surroundings, he was interested in everything; this is what we noticed.

A.M.A.: To keep our conversation varied, tell us: what are your hobbies? Do you practice any sports? Do you listen to music in your spare time?

M.B.: Listening to the recitation of the Qur’an is my pastime.

A.M.A.: Have you listened to Umm Kulthum or other singers?

M.B.: (He paused for a moment, then repeated) My passion is listening to the recitation of the verses of the Holy Qur’an, and occasionally I listen to religious chants, even foreign ones; for example, Christian hymns can include melodious music!

A.M.A.: What hope do you hold for the contemporary Arab-Muslim world? As a thinker with a methodology, what do you wish for this troubled world?

M.B.: My hope is to see it reconnect with its sense of being a bearer of a message—a message in harmony both with the historical stage humanity is passing through and with the requirements of its own identity. On one hand, we see it compelled to return to a new civilizational cycle or to reintegrate its central place in civilization, as its ancestors did during centuries of glory and prosperity. This could rekindle in it a sense of responsibility toward its message.

Then it may realize that this troubled world, stacked high with missiles, nuclear weapons, and vast, almost infinite possibilities, is spiritually impoverished. The role of the Muslim in relation to this world might be to nourish it or quench its spiritual thirst, provided, however, that he fulfills an essential condition: that he appear to this world and to the civilized human being as someone deserving the highest consideration, even if he does not possess missiles or atomic bombs. If this primary condition is met and the Muslim returns to the stage of history as a civilized person, he could indeed fulfill the task of freeing humanity from the yoke of materialism.

A.M.A.: What do you mean by “the yoke of materialism”?

M.B.: We mean precisely the dangerous psychological crisis that civilized humanity currently experiences, which it attempts to alleviate through illicit means, such as drug use or even suicide…

A.M.A.: This is due to anxiety and alienation.

M.B.: Exactly as you say, Professor: anxiety and alienation. This human situation could prepare the way for the Muslim and his message—provided, I repeat, that the Muslim regains his civilizational level. Perhaps this will open the path for him to play an effective role as a savior, a role that others would accept him assuming, just as the civilizationally advanced Muslim once did.

A.M.A.: Following the Bandung Conference of 1955, you wrote your book on Afro-Asianism, which contains your famous expression “from Tangier to Jakarta.” If you were to revise or republish it, would you add anything, or leave your thesis as it is? Is there anything new?

M.B.: I wrote about the Conference without even attending it. But perhaps I would modify certain parts of the book inspired by the period we were experiencing at the time. At that time, it was necessary for us to praise the role India played, which was marked by what was called non-alignment, representing an essential axis of thought for the Third World, particularly in political thought…

A.M.A.: India has completely changed some of its positions toward its neighbors.

M.B.: Yes, this is what I observe today. If I were to revise my book, I would reconsider certain concepts, for example, non-violence, because I have not found more ruthless violence than that of Indira Gandhi!

A.M.A.: You mean the daughter of Nehru and the [daughter-in-law] of Mahatma Gandhi chose the path of violence?

M.B.: Yes, in my view, she is the counterpart of Golda Meir.

A.M.A.: You mean she took a different path from her father and her spiritual master. Professor, what advice would you give to the youth of Libya, given that you have students, readers, and disciples there?

M.B.: In Libya, we have honorable brothers of whom we are proud, whether the younger among them or those of our generation. I do not say this to flatter, but to describe a reality. I perceive in the Libyan people a truth that pleases me and every Arab: their authenticity and purity. And this interests me above all.

A.M.A.: Thank you. May God bless you! And what is your next destination?

M.B.: Paris.

A.M.A.: To attend a conference or on a scientific mission?

M.B.: It is a family mission, specifically a medical check-up for my daughter, who accompanied me to the Hajj this year. God gave her and her sister to me at an advanced age. She is the apple of my eye. Here she is before you!

A.M.A.: What is her name?

M.B.: Her name is Rahma [Grace, Mercy]. Isn’t it beautiful? It is a grace of Allah!

A.M.A.: How old are you, Professor?

M.B.: I was born in 1905 in Constantine, Algeria. I confirmed this in my book “Memoirs of a Witness of the Century.”

A.M.A.: Thank you, Professor, may God bless you!

(Malek Bennabi departed with the smile of a believer, taking leave of me silently and with full pride. This was the last interview and the ultimate farewell…)

Ali Mustapha Al-Mousrati

Notes:

1_ Decisive Discourse on the Agreement of Religion and Philosophy (Fasl al-maqâl fîmâ bain ash-sharî’ah wa al-hikmah min al-ittisâl, 1179), translated by M. Geoffroy, Paris, Garnier-Flammarion, 1996.

2_ Memoirs of a Witness of the Century…

3_ Muhammad ibn Mukarram ibn ‘Alī ibn Ahmad ibn Mandhur al-Ansārī al-Ifrīqī al-Misrī al-Khazrajī Jamāl al-Dīn Abū al-Fad: a famous lexicographer (probably Berber), born in 1233, died in Cairo in 1311, author of the renowned multi-volume Arabic dictionary Lisān al-‘Arab (لسان العرب). Historians differ on his place of birth (Tunisia, Libya, or Egypt).

4_ Abu Mohammad Izz al-Din Abdelaziz Ibn Abdessalam Bin Abilqassem, nicknamed “the Sultan of Scholars”: a Sunni jurist known for his vigorous and relentless calls to resist the Tatar invasion, particularly during the reign of the Mamluk Sultan Al-Muzaffar Sayf ad-Dīn Qutuz (قطز).