Leigh Chipman, The World of Pharmacy and Pharmacists in Mamlūk Cairo, Sir Henry Wellcome Asian Series, Vol. 8 (Leiden: Brill, 2010), pp. x + 318, €104.00/$154.00, hardback, ISBN: 978-90-04-17606-5.

Abstract

In what will undoubtedly become one of the key publications in this field, Chipman presents an important study of pharmacists and pharmacy in the mediaeval Islamic world and its, so far, neglected aspects. She begins with a close reading of al-Kūhīn al-‘Aṭṭār’s immensely popular thirteenth-century Arabic guide for pharmacists, the Minhāj ad-dukkān (‘How to Manage a Pharmacy’), and an analysis of how al-Kūhīn al-‘Aṭṭār added to or modified the recipes of his predecessors. The Minhāj provides practical details, such as the preparation of drugs, substitute drugs, and the identification of less known materia medica, and thus offers insights into the practical work of a pharmacist. In the second part of the book, Chipman moves away from an analysis of the text and places al-Kūhīn al-‘Aṭṭār and his Minhāj in its social context, focusing on depictions of the pharmacist in Mamlūk society. A wide range of sources is consulted, including legal works, popular literature, and chronicles, which generally depict the pharmacist as a scoundrel who was merely concerned with profit. Chipman contrasts this negative image with al-Kūhīn al-‘Aṭṭār’s ideal of a God-fearing pharmacist anxious to help his fellow man, and she draws attention to the fact that the Minhāj generally employs inexpensive and readily available ingredients. She concludes that the reality is likely to be found in between these contradicting depictions. Religion is a theme which runs through Chipman’s historical investigations, and we thus learn about the disregard for certain Jewish dietary laws, alternatives for wine, and that certain parts of the Minhāj are explicitly devoted to the topic of religion. Even though several parallels to Jewish writings can be identified, al-Kūhīn al-‘Aṭṭār does not go beyond a general monotheism. Another recurrent theme is the differences between physicians and pharmacists, and here Chipman’s comparisons of the work ethics of both professions yield interesting results. However, even though she emphasises that boundaries between pharmacists and physicians are not always clear-cut, we are left with the general image of practice-orientated pharmacists and theory-orientated physicians. For instance, the thirteenth-century physician Ibn Nafīs is depicted as having stated that his discovery of the ‘pulmonary circulation’ (correctly ‘pulmonary transit’) is purely theoretical. However, Ibn Nafīs actually claimed that tashrīḥ (‘dissection’ or ‘anatomy’) proves his predecessor Galen to have been wrong and it therefore remains open to debate whether or not Ibn Nafīs practised human dissection to corroborate his conclusions. Equally problematic is Chipman’s reliance upon Sami Hamarneh’s historically flawed analysis regarding capillaries (see p.124). The differences between physician and pharmacist are also reinforced through comparisons such as those between al-Kūhīn al-‘Aṭṭār and Saladin’s Jewish court physician Ibn Jumay‘. In his laconic compendium, Ibn Jumay‘ does not present many of the practical descriptions contained in the Minhāj as he was opposed to compiling such comprehensive compendia. Ibn Jumay‘ pointed out in his letter to Saladin that comprehensive compendia tempt the reader to become lazy and to ignore the irreplaceable writings of the ancients and the oral guidance of teachers. It is therefore not surprising that Ibn Jumay‘ presented only a mere outline of materia medica in his own compendium, which was intended to be supplemented by both experience and erudition. That Ibn Jumay‘ was also a practice-orientated physician, especially when it came to drugs, can be seen in his treatises on the medicinal use of the lemon/lime or rhubarb. While Chipman includes an index of general terms and materia medica, it is unfortunate that she neglects to index Arabic drug names. Therefore, Appendix Two, which lists all the recipes found in the Minhāj, remains of very limited use for scholars seeking these. The translation of drug names is yet another problem as no caveat is presented to remind the reader that translations and equivalents for mediaeval drug names are problematic, for instance, al-laymūn is translated as lemon, but lime is equally plausible. In some places, Chipman suggests that ineffective drugs were not included by al-Kūhīn al-‘Aṭṭār and that he added the tag ‘beneficial’ (nafi‘) to a remedy whenever he found a drug to be effective. Historians should indicate, however, that their statements about the efficacy of drugs remain problematic as long as we lack reliable research about how drugs were tested and how mediaeval notions compare to modern ideas of ‘effective’ or ‘tested drugs’. Finally, it has to be said that Brill has done a major disservice to the author and adversely affected the wider dissemination of an important scholarly study. Individuals will be reluctant to purchase a volume that, in addition to being over-priced, has a somewhat displaced cover with a cheap glue binding, reminding the potential buyer of a poor-quality pirated copy of an originally expensive book. The contents of the present volume deserve a much better physical presentation.