the very attributes that preclude any need from His essence. How, then, can we dismiss the perfections through which godhood is realized on the basis of such purely verbal fantasies?

If it is objected: “By affirming an essence, an attribute, and the attribute’s inherence in that essence you have produced composition, and every composite requires a composer; for this reason we cannot allow the First to be a body, because a body is composite,” we answer: The claim that “every composite needs a composer” is no different from the claim that “every existent needs an originator.” To such a person we say: the First is an eternal existent who has neither cause nor originator. In the same way we say: He is eternally qualified by attributes—there is no cause for His essence, no cause for His attribute, and no cause for the attribute’s inherence in His essence; the whole of it is eternal and uncaused.

A body, on the other hand, cannot possibly be the First, because it is contingent; it is never free of accidents. Whoever refuses to admit the contingency of bodies is forced to allow that the Prime Cause (1) could be a body, a conclusion that will inevitably rebound upon him later. All of their avenues in this discussion are mere conjectures.

Moreover, they are unable to reduce everything they affirm to the bare essence. They acknowledge that He is knowing, and that necessarily adds something beyond sheer existence. They are therefore asked: “Do you concede that the First knows other than Himself?” Some do concede it, while others contend that He knows only Himself.

The former view is the one chosen by Ibn Sīnā, who claimed that the First knows all things in a universal, timeless manner, yet does not know particulars, for exhaustive knowledge of particulars would require constant renewal of His awareness and thus introduce change into the Knower’s essence.